I have not wasted life, but life hath wasted me.
BHARTRHARITrees bend low with ripened fruit; clouds hang down with gentle rain; noble people bow graciously. This is the way of generous things.
More Bhartrhari Quotes
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There is no medicine to cure a fool!
BHARTRHARI -
Those from whom we were born have long since departed, and those with whom we grew up exist only in memory. We, too, through the approach of death, become, as it were, trees growing on the sandy bank of a river.
BHARTRHARI -
Where is the greatest peace? In truth and righteousness. Who is the hero? The man who subdues his senses. Who is the best beloved? The faithful wife. What is wealth? Knowledge. What is the most perfect happiness? Staying at home.
BHARTRHARI -
Let us keep a firm grip upon our money, for without it the whole assembly of virtues are but as blades of grass.
BHARTRHARI -
Knowledge is wonderful and truth serene But man in their service bleeds.
BHARTRHARI -
The source of inward happiness which shall outlast the earth– To them e’en kings should yield the palm, and own their higher worth.
BHARTRHARI -
Man is but a beast without it: such a glorious god is Learning.
BHARTRHARI -
Neither rings, bright chains, nor bracelets, perfumes, flowers, nor well-trimmed hair, Grace a man like polished language, th’ only jewel he should wear.
BHARTRHARI -
Fate’s sentence written on the brow no hand can e’er efface.
BHARTRHARI -
For a moment man is a boy, for a moment a lovesick youth, for a moment bereft of wealth, for a moment in the height of prosperity; then at life’s end with limbs worn out by old age and wrinkles adorning his face, like an actor he retires behind the curtain of death.
BHARTRHARI -
Trees loaded with fruit are bent down; the clouds when charged with fresh rain hang down near the earth: even so good men are not uplifted through prosperity. Such is the natural character of the liberal.
BHARTRHARI -
Trees bend low with ripened fruit; clouds hang down with gentle rain; noble people bow graciously. This is the way of generous things.
BHARTRHARI -
I’ve wandered over many lands, and reaped withal no fruit, I’ve laid my pride of rank aside, and pressed my baffled suit, At stranger boards, like shameless crow, I’ve eaten bitter bread, But fierce Desire, that raging fire, still clamours to be fed.
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The moth unwitting rushes on the fire, Through ignorance the fish devours the bait, We men know well the foes that lie in wait, Yet cannot shun the meshes of desire.
BHARTRHARI -
The pearl on my beloved’s neck, Afflicted sore the oyster!
BHARTRHARI