What Ought To Be Done Is Neglected,

Thus One Memory Follows Another Until The Waves Dash Together Over Our Heads, And A Deep Sigh Swells The Breast, Which Warns Us That We Have Forgotten To Breathe In The Midst Of These Pure Thoughts.

There Is No Book In The World That Is So Thrilling, Stirring And Inspiring As The Upanishads.

Even In Heavenly Pleasures He Finds No Satisfaction, The Disciple Who Is Fully Awakened Delights Only In The Destruction Of All Desires.

And Then When All Around Grows Dark, When We Feel Utterly Alone, When All Men Right And Left Pass Us By And Know Us Not, A Forgotten Feeling Rises In The Breast.

An Evil Deed Is Better Left Undone, For A Man Repents Of It Afterwards; A Good Deed Is Better Done, For Having Done It, One Does Not Repent.