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.
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.
Neither rings, bright chains, nor bracelets, perfumes, flowers, nor well-trimmed hair, Grace a man like polished language, th’ only jewel he should wear.
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.
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.
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.
![Bhartrhari Quote - A good man may fall, but he falls like a ball [and rebounds]; the ignoble man falls like a lump of clay.](https://minimalistquotes.com/images/a-good-man-may-fall-but-he-falls-like-a-ball-and-r.jpg)
