There's No Heart Like The Indian Heart.

One Of The Ironies Of Courage, And The Reason Why We Prize It So Highly, Is That We Find It Easier To Be Brave For Someone Else Than We Do For Ourselves Alone.

We Have A Saying In Marseilles: A Man In No Hurry Gets Nowhere Fast. I Have Been In No Hurry For Eight Years.

The Tears, When They Come To Some Men, Are Worse Than Beatings. They're Wounded Worse By Sobbing, Men Like That, Than They Are By Boots And Batons. Tears Begin In The Heart, But Some Of Us Deny The Heart So Often, And For So Long, That When It Speaks We Hear Not One But A Hundred Sorrows In The Heartbreak. We Know That Crying Is A Good And Natural Thing. We Know That Crying Isn't A Weakness, But A Kind Of Strength. Still, The Weeping Rips Us Root By Tangled Root From The Earth, And We Crash Like Fallen Trees When We Cry.

None Of Us Lie Or Guard Our Secrets When We Sing, And India Is A Nation Of Singers Whose First Love Is The Kind Of Song We Turn To When Crying Just Isn't Enough.

The Truth Is That The Man I Am Was Born In Those Moments, As I Stood Near The Flood Sticks With My Face Lifted To The Chrismal Rain. Shantaram. The Better Man That, Slowly, And Much Too Late, I Began To Be.