Longing Is Like The Rosy Dawn. After

As A Piece Of Rope, When Burnt, Retains Its Form, But Cannot Serve To Bind, So Is The Ego Which Is Burnt By The Fire Of Supreme Knowledge.

The Breeze Of Grace Is Always Blowing On You. You Have To Open The Sails And Your Boat Will Move Forward.

As For Me, I Consider Myself As A Speck Of The Dust Of The Devotee's Feet.

The Waves Belong To The Water. Does The Water Belong To The Waves?

More Are The Names Of God And Infinite Are The Forms Through Which He May Be Approached. In Whatever Name And Form You Worship Him, Through Them You Will Realise Him.