The source of inward happiness which shall outlast the earth– To them e’en kings should yield the palm, and own their higher worth.
BHARTRHARIKindness can turn the bad man’s heart, and fools convert to wise, Make poison into nectar-juice, and friends of enemies.
More Bhartrhari Quotes
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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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Knowledge is wonderful and truth serene But man in their service bleeds.
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Kindness can turn the bad man’s heart, and fools convert to wise, Make poison into nectar-juice, and friends of enemies.
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Fate’s sentence written on the brow no hand can e’er efface.
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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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The pearl on my beloved’s neck, Afflicted sore the oyster!
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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.
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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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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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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 -
I have not wasted life, but life hath wasted me.
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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.
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Trees bend low with ripened fruit; clouds hang down with gentle rain; noble people bow graciously. This is the way of generous things.
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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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There is no medicine to cure a fool!
BHARTRHARI