Falling drops will at last wear away stone.
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Anand Thakur
Falling drops will at last wear away stone.
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Thus it comes That earth, without her seasons of fixed rains, Could bear no produce such as makes us glad, And whatsoever lives, if shut from food, Prolongs its kind and guards its life no more.
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Gently touching with the charm of poetry.
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Tears for the mourners who are left behind Peace everlasting for the quiet dead.
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Nothing can be created out of nothing.
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Pleasant it to behold great encounters of warfare arrayed over the plains, with no part of yours in peril.
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The water hollows out the stone, not by force but drop by drop.
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Sweet it is, when on the high seas the winds are lashing the waters, to gaze from the land on another’s struggles.
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Confess then, naught from nothing can become, Since all must have their seeds, wherefrom to grow, Wherefrom to reach the gentle fields of air.
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The mask is torn off, while the reality remains
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If the matter of death is reduced to sleep and rest, what can there be so bitter in it, that any one should pine in eternal grief for the decease of a friend?
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Continual dropping wears away a stone.
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Whenever anything changes and quits its proper limits, this change is at once the death of that which was before.
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Religious questions have often led to wicked and impious actions.
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You alone govern the nature of things. Without you nothing emerges into the light of day, without you nothing is joyous or lovely.
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There can be no centre in infinity.
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