“If you must be mad, be it not for the things of the world. Be mad with the love of God.”

Common men talk bagfuls of religion but do not practise even a grain of it. The wise man speaks a little, even though his whole life is religion expressed in action.

The Bliss indeed is eternal, only it is covered and obscured by ignorance.

Who is whose Guru? God alone is the guide and Guru of the universe.

The richest gem of all. How many pearls and precious stones Are scattered all about The outer court that lies before The chamber of your heart!

The virtuous and the vicious. Therefore when I meet different people I say to myself, “God in the form of the saint, God in the form of the sinner

That knowledge which purifies the mind and heart alone is true Knowledge, all else is only a negation of Knowledge.

Wisdom leads to unity, but ignorance to separation. So long as God seems to be outside and far away, there is ignorance. But when God is realised within, that is true knowledge.

So long as one does not become simple like a child, one does not get divine illumination.

It noiselessly drinks the nectar. So long as a man quarrels and disputes about doctrines and dogmas

Take the case of the infinite ocean. There is no limit to its water. Suppose a pot is immersed in it: there is water both inside and outside the pot.

God in the form of the saint, God in the form of the sinner, God in the form of the righteous, God in the form of the unrighteous.

Knowledge leads to unity, but ignorance to diversity.

One cannot enter the mansion without jumping over the stump.

God laughs, saying to Himself, ‘I am going to take his life, and this man says he will save other,

God cannot be realizxd if there is the slightest trace of pride.

Forgiveness is the true nature of the ascetic.

Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible, and I have no cause to complain, since I have similar opinions of their works, or of the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer.

The suffering may be moral or physical; and in my opinion it is just as absurd to call a man a coward who destroys himself, as to call a man a coward who dies of a malignant fever.

There is only one solution if old age is not to be an absurd parody of our former life, and that is to go on pursuing ends that give our existence a meaning.

We are not mad. We are human. We want to love, and someone must forgive us for the paths we take to love, for the paths are many and dark, and we are ardent and cruel in our journey.

We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not.

I love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly.

It is our own evil thoughts which madden us.