Trees bend low with ripened fruit; clouds hang down with gentle rain; noble people bow graciously. This is the way of generous things.
BHARTRHARINeither rings, bright chains, nor bracelets, perfumes, flowers, nor well-trimmed hair, Grace a man like polished language, th’ only jewel he should wear.
More Bhartrhari Quotes
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Those who possess that treasure which no thief can take away, Which, though on suppliants freely spent, increaseth day by day,
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A good man may fall, but he falls like a ball [and rebounds]; the ignoble man falls like a lump of clay.
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The pearl on my beloved’s neck, Afflicted sore the oyster!
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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.
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Fate’s sentence written on the brow no hand can e’er efface.
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Idleness is a great enemy to mankind. There is no friend like energy, for, if you cultivate that, it will never fail.
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I have not wasted life, but life hath wasted me.
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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 -
Knowledge is wonderful and truth serene But man in their service bleeds.
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Let us keep a firm grip upon our money, for without it the whole assembly of virtues are but as blades of grass.
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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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Three courses open lie to wealth, to give, enjoy, or lose, Who shrinketh from the former two, perforce the third doth choose.
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What is the most profitable? Fellowship with the good. What is the worst thing in the world? The society of evil men. What is the greatest loss? Failure in ones duty.
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The constant man loses not his virtue in misfortune. A torch may point towards the ground, but its flame will still point upwards.
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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