Self Is The Lord Of Self, Who

The Evil Done By Oneself, Self-begotten, Self-bred, Crushes The Foolish, As A Diamond Breaks A Precious Stone.

That Is The Returning To God Which In Reality Is Never Concluded On Earth But Yet Leaves Behind In The Soul A Divine Home Sickness, Which Never Again Ceases.

What Is Emitted From The Divine, Though It Be Only Like The Reflection From The Fire, Still Has The Divine Reality In Itself, And One Might Almost Ask What Were The Fire Without Glow, The Sun Without Light, Or The Creator Without The Creature?

I Spend My Happiest Hours In Reading Vedantic Books. They Are To Me Like The Light Of The Morning, Like The Pure Air Of The Mountains - So Simple, So True, If Once Understood.

The First Pages Of Memory Are Like The Old Family Bible. The First Leaves Are Wholly Faded And Somewhat Soiled With Handling. But, When We Turn Further, And Come To The Chapters Where Adam And Eve Were Banished From Paradise, Then, All Begins To Grow Clear And Legible.