The Spring Of Love Becomes Hidden And

What Ought To Be Done Is Neglected, What Ought Not To Be Done Is Done; The Desires Of Unruly, Thoughtless People Are Always Increasing.

Without A Belief In Personal Immortality, Religion Surely Is Like An Arch Resting On One Pillar, Like A Bridge Ending In An Abyss.

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.

He In Whom All This Is Destroyed, And Taken Out With The Very Root, He, When Freed From Hatred And Wise, Is Called Respectable.

It Smote Me To The Heart That I Had Found No One In All The World Who Loved Me More Than All Others.