Ends and purposes, whether they exist as conscious or subconscious tendencies, form the wrap and woof of our conscious experience.
MUHAMMAD IQBALThe wing of the Falcon brings to the king, the wing if the crow brings him to the cemetery.
More Muhammad Iqbal Quotes
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I have never considered myself a poet. I have no interest in poetic artistry.
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It may, however, be said that the level of experience to which concepts are inapplicable cannot yield any knowledge of a universal character, for concepts alone are capable of being socialized.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
The truth is that the religious and the scientific processes, though involving different methods, are identical in their final aim. Both aim at reaching the most real.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
That is why, according to this newer psychology, Christianity has already fulfilled its biological mission, and it is impossible for the modern man to understand its original significance.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
Water before the faithful, blood before the unbeliever.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
I have seen the movement of the sinews of the sky, And the blood coursing in the veins of the moon.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
The thought of a limit to perceptual space and time staggers the mind.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
The wing of the Falcon brings to the king, the wing if the crow brings him to the cemetery.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
Physiologically less violent and psychologically more suitable to a concrete type of mind.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
I am a hidden meaning made to defy. The grasp of words, and walk away With free will and destiny. As living, revolutionary clay.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
Though the terror of the sea gives to none security, in the secret of the shell. Self preserving we may dwell.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
Islam is itself destiny and will not suffer destiny.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
Rise above sectional interests and private ambitions…
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
Why hast thou made me born in this country, The inhabitant of which is satisfied with being a slave?
MUHAMMAD IQBAL -
Since love first made the breast an instrument Of fierce lamenting, by its flame my heart Was molten to a mirror, like a rose I pluck my breast apart, that I may hang This mirror in your sight.
MUHAMMAD IQBAL






