The source of inward happiness which shall outlast the earth– To them e’en kings should yield the palm, and own their higher worth.
BHARTRHARIThe pearl on my beloved’s neck, Afflicted sore the oyster!
More Bhartrhari Quotes
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Our life is like th’ unstable wave, Our bloom of youth decays. Our joys are brief as lightning flash In summer’s cloudy days, Our riches fleet as swift as thought; Faith in the One Supreme Alone will bear us o’er the gulfs Of Being’s stormy stream.
BHARTRHARI -
Even the severed branch grows again, and the sunken moon returns: wise men who ponder this are not troubled in adversity.
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Man is but a beast without it: such a glorious god is Learning.
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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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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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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 pearl on my beloved’s neck, Afflicted sore the oyster!
BHARTRHARI -
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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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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I have not wasted life, but life hath wasted me.
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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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Let us keep a firm grip upon our money, for without it the whole assembly of virtues are but as blades of grass.
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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Trees bend low with ripened fruit; clouds hang down with gentle rain; noble people bow graciously. This is the way of generous things.
BHARTRHARI