Soon The Child Learns That There Are

Every Life Has Its Years In Which One Progresses As On A Tedious And Dusty Street Of Poplars, Without Caring To Know Where He Is.

And If I Were To Ask Myself From What Literature We Who Have Been Nurtured Almost Exclusively On The Thoughts Of Greeks And Romans, And Of The Semitic Race, The Jewish, May Draw The Corrective Which Is Most Wanted In Order To Make Our Inner Life More Perfect, More Comprehensive, More Universal, In Fact More Truly Human A Life... Again I Should Point To India.

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?

When The Evil Deed, After It Has Become Known, Brings Sorrow To The Fool, Then It Destroys His Bright Lot, Nay, It Cleaves His Head.

While The River Of Life Glides Along Smoothly, It Remains The Same River; Only The Landscape On Either Bank Seems To Change.