Victory Breeds Hatred, For The Conquered Is

He Who, Though Dressed In Fine Apparel, Exercises Tranquillity, Is Quiet, Subdued, Restrained, Chaste, And Has Ceased To Find Fault With All Other Beings, He Indeed Is An Ascetic.

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.

How Mankind Defers From Day To Day The Best It Can Do, And The Most Beautiful Things It Can Enjoy, Without Thinking That Every Day May Be The Last One, And That Lost Time Is Lost Eternity!

I Have Declared Again And Again That If I Say Aryans, I Mean Neither Blood Nor Bones, Nor Hair Nor Skull; I Mean Simply Those Who Speak An Aryan Language. In That Sense, And In That Sense Only, Do I Say That Even The Blackest Hindus Represent An Earlier Stage Of Aryan Speech And Thought Than The Fairest Scandinavians. To Me An Ethnologist Who Speaks Of Aryan Race, Aryan Blood, Aryan Eyes And Hair, Is As Great A Sinner As A Linguist Who Speaks Of A Dolichocephalic Dictionary Or A Brachycephalic Grammar.

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?