“He who has realized the Self in the Heart has transcended the dualities and is never perplexed.”

Grace is within you. Grace is your self. Grace is not something to be acquired from others. If it is external, it is useless. All that is necessary is to know its existence is in you. You are never out of its operation.

We are always peace. To get rid of the idea that we are not peace is all that is required.

See what helps you to keep away all other thoughts and adopt that method for your meditation.

The end of all wisdom is love, love, love.

Suffering is the way for Realization of God.

Dive deep into the chambers of your heart. Find out the real, infinite ‘I’. Rest there peacefully for ever and become identical with the Supreme Self.

Surrender is to give oneself up to the original cause of one’s being.

The enemy hates the ego, which the seeker wants to kill; thus, like the anvil to the goldsmith, he is actually a friend.

Have faith in God and in yourself; that will cure all. Hope for the best, expect the best, toil for the best and everything will come right for you in the end.

There is no Truth. There is only the truth within each moment.

He who thinks he is the doer is also the sufferer.

Actions themselves form no bondage. Bondage is only the false belief, “I am the do-er.”

Does one require proof of one’s own being? Only remain aware of yourself and all else will be known.

There is a state when words cease and silence prevails.

Unless one is happy, one cannot bestow happiness on others.

Concentration of the mind is in a way common to both Knowledge and Yoga. Yoga aims at union of the individual with the universal, the Reality. This Reality cannot be new. It must exist even now, and it does exist.

I don’t see why it’s impossible to express everything that’s on one’s mind.

To continue in one path is to go backward.

What did I hope for, what did I expect, what rich future did I foresee, when the phantom of my first love, rising up for an instant, barely called forth one sigh, one mournful sentiment?

The subconscious is ceaselessly murmuring, and it is by listening to these murmurs that one hears its truth.

One has a nose. The nose scents and it chooses. An artist is simply a kind of pig snouting truffles.

When shall we see a life full of steady enthusiasm, walking straight to its aim, flying home, as that bird is now, against the wind – with the calmness and the confidence of one who knows the laws of God and can apply them?

Belonging to oneself–the whole essence of life lies in that.

As long as there is one heart on Earth where I still live, my memory will not die.