classes ::: subject, media, sense,
children ::: places (on earth)
branches ::: 64 Arts, Art, Arthur Koestler, Arthur Schopenhauer, article, artifacts, Artifical Intelligence, Earthbeat, Heart, higher part, Jean-Paul Sartre, Martial Arts, martial training, Martin Heidegger, Meister Eckhart, participle, Siddhartha, start, Tarthang Tulku, the Charter, whole-heartedly

Instances, Classes, See Also, Object in Names
Definitions, . Quotes . - . Chapters .


  Art district? / Art house / art room
    - texture Lab
    - texture mapping
    - animation lab
    - a place for drawing maps and painting with textures

  image library ::: (in the Infinite Library); it would be amazing to be able to look at 30,000 purple crystal or animated fountains etc.

  - Perhaps the ideal is something like a VR space where one can create both art and music with ease and joy. Alone or as a collective.
  - Building the outdoor temple-garden: moving water. trees. growing plants animation cycles
  - building the inside of the temple:

relating to the idea of making living digital art, or growing art, there is the memory of "the place where visions come from" and the crazy unfolding of knowledge quality of certain visions. like it is looping back on itself to hold the so much more it is. anyways the idea is trying to imitate that in art.

  should this page be visual art or the parent "art" that links also to music?

--- TODO
  favorite artists

painting - art - draw program -

see also ::: Music
see also ::: the Infinite Art Gallery

questions, comments, take-down requests, reporting broken-links etc.
contact me @ integralyogin at gmail dot com








10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real
1.01 - 'Imitation' the common principle of the Arts of Poetry.
1.07 - The Farther Reaches of Human Nature
1.12 - The 'quantitative parts' of Tragedy defined.
1.17 - Geryon. The Violent against Art. Usurers. Descent into the Abyss of Malebolge.
12.01 - The Return to Earth
2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind
2.1.01 - The Parts of the Being
2.1.02 - Classification of the Parts of the Being
3.17 - Of the License to Depart
64 Arts
7.03 - The Heart
7.2.03 - The Other Earths
7.5.61 - Because Thou Art
7.6.03 - Who art thou that camest
Aion - Part 1+
Aion - Part 13+
An Arrow to the Heart A Commentary on the Heart Sutra
Art as Experience
Arthur C Clarke
Arthur Koestler
Arthur Schopenhauer
Artifical Intelligence
Big Mind, Big Heart
Confusion Arises as Wisdom Gampopa's Heart Advice on the Path of Mahamudra
Foxe's Book of Martyrs
Guru Granth Sahib first part
Hearts temple-shrine to Savitri
higher part
Into the Heart of Life
Jean-Paul Sartre
Letters On Poetry And Art
Longchenpa's Advice From The Heart
Martial Arts
martial training
Martin Heidegger
Martin Luther's Ninety-Five Theses
Meister Eckhart
On Trust in the Heart
Parting From The Four Attachments A Commentary On Jetsun Drakpa Gyaltsen's Song Of Experience On Mind Training And The View
parts of the being
places (on earth)
Start Here A Crash Course in Understanding, Navigating, and Healing From Narcissistic Abuse
Straight From The Heart Buddhist Pith Instructions
Tarthang Tulku
The Art and Thought of Heraclitus
The Art of Computer Programming
The Art of Happiness
The Art of Literature
The Art of Living The Classical Manual on Virtue
The Art of the Short Story
The Art of War
the Charter
The Dharani Sutra The Sutra of the Vast, Great, Perfect, Full, Unimpeded Great Compassion Heart Dharani of the Thousand-Handed, Thousand
The Essence of the Heart Sutra The Dalai Lama's Heart of Wisdom Teachings
The Great Sense Sri Aurobindo And The Future Of The Earth
The Heart Is Noble Changing the World from the Inside Out
The Heart of Compassion The Thirty-seven Verses on the Practice of a Bodhisattva
The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching Transforming Suffering into Peace
The Heart of the Path Seeing the Guru as Buddha
The Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones The Practice of View, Meditation, and Action A Discourse Virtuous in the Beginning, Middle, and End
the Infinite Art Gallery
select ::: Being, God, injunctions, media, place, powers, subjects,
favorite ::: cwsa, everyday, grade, mcw, memcards_(table), project, project_0001, Savitri_(cento), Savitri_(extended_toc), the_Temple_of_Sages, three_js, whiteboard,
temp ::: consecration, experiments, knowledge, meditation, psychometrics, remember, responsibility, temp, the_Bad, the_God_object, the_Good, the_most_important, the_Ring, the_source_of_inspirations, the_Stack, the_Tarot, the_Word, top_priority, whiteboard,

--- DICTIONARIES (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)

art ::: v. archaic** A second person singular present indicative of be, now only poet., not in modern usage. All other references are to art as the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance. Also, the class of objects subject to aesthetic criteria. art’s, arts, art-parades.

artifice ::: 1. An artful or crafty expedient; a stratagem. 2. Cleverness or skill; ingenuity; inventiveness.

artificer ::: 1. One who is skilful or clever in devising ways of making things; inventor. 2. A skilful or artistic worker; craftsperson. artificers.

artisan ::: one skilled in an applied art; craftsperson. artisans.

artist ::: 1. One who practises the creative arts; one who seeks to express the beautiful in visible form. 2. A follower of a manual art; an artificer, mechanic, craftsman, artisan. artists. (Sri Aurobindo often employs the word as an adj.)

artist (’s).

artistry ::: artistic workmanship, effect, or quality.

art ::: --> The second person singular, indicative mode, present tense, of the substantive verb Be; but formed after the analogy of the plural are, with the ending -t, as in thou shalt, wilt, orig. an ending of the second person sing. pret. Cf. Be. Now used only in solemn or poetical style. ::: n.

artemia ::: n. --> A genus of phyllopod Crustacea found in salt lakes and brines; the brine shrimp. See Brine shrimp.

artemisia ::: n. --> A genus of plants including the plants called mugwort, southernwood, and wormwood. Of these A. absinthium, or common wormwood, is well known, and A. tridentata is the sage brush of the Rocky Mountain region.

arteriac ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to the windpipe.

arterial ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to an artery, or the arteries; as, arterial action; the arterial system.
Of or pertaining to a main channel (resembling an artery), as a river, canal, or railroad.

arterialization ::: n. --> The process of converting venous blood into arterial blood during its passage through the lungs, oxygen being absorbed and carbonic acid evolved; -- called also aeration and hematosis.

arterialize ::: v. t. --> To transform, as the venous blood, into arterial blood by exposure to oxygen in the lungs; to make arterial.

arterialized ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Arterialize

arterializing ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Arterialize

arteries ::: pl. --> of Artery

arteriography ::: n. --> A systematic description of the arteries.

arteriole ::: n. --> A small artery.

arteriology ::: n. --> That part of anatomy which treats of arteries.

arteriotomy ::: n. --> The opening of an artery, esp. for bloodletting.
That part of anatomy which treats of the dissection of the arteries.

arteritis ::: n. --> Inflammation of an artery or arteries.

artery ::: n. --> The trachea or windpipe.
One of the vessels or tubes which carry either venous or arterial blood from the heart. They have tricker and more muscular walls than veins, and are connected with them by capillaries.
Hence: Any continuous or ramified channel of communication; as, arteries of trade or commerce.

artesian ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to Artois (anciently called Artesium), in France.

artful ::: a. --> Performed with, or characterized by, art or skill.
Artificial; imitative.
Using or exhibiting much art, skill, or contrivance; dexterous; skillful.
Cunning; disposed to cunning indirectness of dealing; crafty; as, an artful boy. [The usual sense.]

artfully ::: adv. --> In an artful manner; with art or cunning; skillfully; dexterously; craftily.

artfulness ::: n. --> The quality of being artful; art; cunning; craft.

arthen ::: a. --> Same as

arthritical ::: a. --> Pertaining to the joints.
Of or pertaining to arthritis; gouty.

arthritic ::: a. --> Alt. of Arthritical

arthritis ::: n. --> Any inflammation of the joints, particularly the gout.

arthroderm ::: n. --> The external covering of an Arthropod.

arthrodia ::: n. --> A form of diarthrodial articulation in which the articular surfaces are nearly flat, so that they form only an imperfect ball and socket.

arthrodial ::: a. --> Alt. of Arthrodic

arthrodic ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to arthrodia.

arthrodynia ::: n. --> An affection characterized by pain in or about a joint, not dependent upon structural disease.

arthrodynic ::: a. --> Pertaining to arthrodynia, or pain in the joints; rheumatic.

arthrogastra ::: n. pl. --> A division of the Arachnida, having the abdomen annulated, including the scorpions, harvestmen, etc.; pedipalpi.

arthrography ::: n. --> The description of joints.

arthrology ::: n. --> That part of anatomy which treats of joints.

arthromere ::: n. --> One of the body segments of Arthropods. See Arthrostraca.

arthropleura ::: n. --> The side or limb-bearing portion of an arthromere.

arthropoda ::: n. pl. --> A large division of Articulata, embracing all those that have jointed legs. It includes Insects, Arachnida, Pychnogonida, and Crustacea.

arthropod ::: n. --> One of the Arthropoda.

arthropomata ::: n. pl. --> One of the orders of Branchiopoda. See Branchiopoda.

--- QUOTES [1000 / 1000 - 500 / 500] (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)

KEYS (10k)

  517 Sri Aurobindo
   41 The Mother
   33 Miyamoto Musashi
   24 Yamamoto Tsunetomo
   20 Bruce Lee
   17 Leonardo da Vinci
   17 Arthur Schopenhauer
   11 Sri Ramana Maharshi
   11 Sri Ramakrishna
   11 Meister Eckhart
   10 Vincent van Gogh
   7 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
   7 Masaaki Hatsumi
   7 Jean-Paul Sartre
   6 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
   6 Arthur C Clarke
   6 Alan Perlis
   5 Jalaluddin Rumi
   5 Anonymous
   4 Martin Luther King
   4 C S Lewis
   3 Saint Teresa of Avila
   3 Saint John of the Cross
   3 Saint Augustine of Hippo
   3 Rene Descartes
   3 R Buckminster Fuller
   3 Peter J Carroll
   3 Michelangelo
   3 Martin Luther King Jr.
   3 Kabir
   3 Jean Gebser
   3 Heraclitus
   3 Henry David Thoreau
   3 Georg C Lichtenberg
   3 Epictetus
   3 Arthur Koestler
   3 Aristotle
   2 T S Eliot
   2 Thomas Keating
   2 Soren Kierkegaard
   2 Salvador Dali
   2 Saint Francis of Assisi
   2 Saint Benedict of Nursia
   2 Robert Anton Wilson
   2 Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
   2 Plato
   2 Pablo Picasso
   2 Nichiren
   2 Martin Heidegger
   2 Mansur al-Hallaj
   2 Manly P Hall
   2 Joseph Campbell
   2 Homer
   2 Haruki Murakami
   2 Hafiz
   2 George R R Martin
   2 George Bernard Shaw
   2 Elon Musk
   2 Dante Alighieri
   2 Claudio Naranjo
   2 Charles Dickens
   2 Bodhidharma
   2 Arthur Conan Doyle
   2 Aleister Crowley
   2 Albert Einstein
   2 Aeschylus
   1 Youtube Comment
   1 William James
   1 Virgil
   1 Vicktor Hugo
   1 Ursula K Le Guin
   1 Tsoknyi Rinpoche
   1 Tseu-tse
   1 To Develop a Mind:
Study the science of art;
Study the art of science.
Learn how to see.
Realize that everything connects
to everything else." - Leonardo da Vinci

   1 Thomas a Kempis
   1 The Sutra of the Elder Sumagadha
   1 TheMidnightGospel
   1 T Gantier
   1 Tecumseh
   1 Swami Vivekananda
   1 Swami Sivananda
   1 Swami Avdheshanand
   1 Stephen King
   1 Sophia Loren
   1 Sokal and Bricmont
   1 Sir D'Arcy Wentworth Thompson
   1 Shabkar
   1 Seraphim of Sarov
   1 Senge
   1 Sappho
   1 Samuel Lover
   1 Samuel Johnson
   1 Saint Thomas Aquinas
   1 Saint Paul
   1 Saint Bernard of Clairvaux
   1 Saigyo
   1 Saadi
   1 Robert Heinlein
   1 Rig Veda
   1 Richard P Feynman
   1 Ray Bradbury
   1 Proverbs
   1 Pope John Paul II
   1 Pindar
   1 Phil Hine
   1 Peter Schjeldahl
   1 P D Ouspensky
   1 Pablo Neruda
   1 Owen Barfield
   1 Osho
   1 Oscar Wilde
   1 Novalis
   1 Noam Chomsky
   1 Nicholas of Cusa
   1 Napoleon Bonaparte
   1 Mozart
   1 Molière
   1 M J Ryan
   1 Mingyur Rinpoche
   1 Martin Cruz Smith
   1 Marijn Haverbeke
   1 M Alan Kazlev
   1 Major Kusanagi
   1 Maimonides
   1 Mahatma Gandhi
   1 Louise Colet
   1 Leonardo Da Vinci
   1 Laws of Manu
   1 King Solomon
   1 Khalil Gibran
   1 Ken Wilber
   1 Karen Lamb
   1 Kahlil Gibran
   1 Kabi
   1 John Stuart Mill
   1 John of Salisbury
   1 John French
   1 John Donne
   1 Jetsun Milarepa
   1 Jean Piaget
   1 Jean Baudrillard
   1 Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye
   1 Ibn Arabi
   1 H P Lovecraft
   1 Howard Gardner
   1 Hermann Hesse
   1 Hayao Miyazaki
   1 Gustav Fechner
   1 Guru Rinpoche
   1 Goya
   1 Gospel of Thomas
   1 Giordano Bruno
   1 Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel
   1 Fyodor Dostoevsky
   1 Friedrich Nietzsche
   1 Franz Kafka
   1 Forsha (31)
   1 Farid-ud-diu-attar
   1 Farid-ud-din-attar
   1 Fa.khen-pi.u
   1 Ernst & Young
   1 Emilia Fox
   1 Emanuel Swedenborg
   1 Edgar Allan Poe
   1 Dion Fortune
   1 Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche
   1 David Deida
   1 Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche
   1 Chiyo-ni
   1 Cesar A Cruz
   1 Carl Sagan
   1 Bulleh Shah
   1 Bukowski
   1 Buddha
   1 Brenda Ueland
   1 Book of Wisdom
   1 Blaise Pascal
   1 Bill Hicks
   1 Bhagavad Gita
   1 Benjamin Disraeli
   1 Baha-ullah
   1 Asanga
   1 Arthur Schopenauer
   1 Anonymous Proverb
   1 Anon
   1 Amir Khusrau
   1 Alejandro Jodorowsky
   1 Alan Turing
   1 Abraham Maslow


   37 Arthur Conan Doyle
   12 Ally Carter
   8 Trenton Lee Stewart
   8 Eckhart Tolle
   7 Liane Moriarty
   7 Dolly Parton
   7 Anonymous
   6 J K Rowling
   6 Garth Risk Hallberg
   5 Yann Martel
   5 Jean Paul Sartre
   5 Donna Tartt
   5 Arthur Rimbaud
   5 Arthur C Clarke
   4 Rick Riordan
   4 Martin Amis
   4 Martial
   4 Kevin Hart
   4 David J Schwartz
   4 Bart King
   3 Vishnuvarthanan Moorthy
   3 Toba Beta
   3 Stuart Woods
   3 Stuart Gibbs
   3 Stormie Omartian
   3 Staci Hart
   3 Siddhartha Mukherjee
   3 Rumi
   3 Mary Roberts Rinehart
   3 Martin Luther King Jr
   3 Martha N Beck
   3 Markus Zusak
   3 John Green
   3 E Lockhart
   3 Artur Azevedo
   3 Ann M Martin
   3 Anne Sexton
   2 W H Auden
   2 T J Brearton
   2 Stewart Brand
   2 Steve Martin
   2 Robert C Martin
   2 Rene Descartes
   2 Ralph Waldo Emerson
   2 Rakim
   2 Rachel E Carter
   2 Pablo Picasso
   2 Ovid
   2 Neil Gaiman
   2 Meister Eckhart
   2 Martin Lake
   2 Joseph Beuys
   2 Jose Marti
   2 Jon Stewart
   2 John Lescroart
   2 John Hart
   2 John F MacArthur Jr
   2 Jimmy Carter
   2 Jim Butcher
   2 Holly Black
   2 Erin Hunter
   2 Eoin Colfer
   2 Eminem
   2 Callie Hart
   2 Bill O Reilly
   2 Art Spiegelman
   2 Arthur Kemp
   2 Anton Wildgans
   2 Andy Warhol
   2 Aly Martinez
   2 A J Stewart

1:God is greater than God. ~ Meister Eckhart,
2:Nature is the art of God. ~ Dante Alighieri,
3:God is all and all is God. ~ Meister Eckhart,
4:Never stray from the Way. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
5:Low aim, not failure, is the crime. ~ Bruce Lee,
6:Action is a highroad to self-esteem. ~ Bruce Lee,
7:I purify earth and heaven by the Truth. ~ Rig Veda,
8:Everything you can imagine is real. ~ Pablo Picasso,
9:Know your enemy, know his sword. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
10:Become acquainted with every art. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
11:Always be able to kill your students ~ Masaaki Hatsumi,
12:Come live in my heart, and pay no rent. ~ Samuel Lover,
13:Continue to spur a running horse. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
14:Learning never exhausts the mind. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
15:Singlemindedness is all-powerful. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
16:Too much is the same as not enough. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
17:The usefulness of the cup is its emptiness. ~ Bruce Lee,
18:War is ninety percent information. ~ Napoleon Bonaparte,
19:When one has no form, one can be all forms. ~ Bruce Lee,
20:Beauty is the purgation of superfluities. ~ Michelangelo,
21:My course is set for an uncharted sea. ~ Dante Alighieri,
22:The end is important in all things. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
23:If there is a paradise on earth, It is this, it is this, it is this ~ Amir Khusrau,
24:The whole is more than the sum of its parts. ~ Aristotle,
25:The object of the intellect is being. ~ Meister Eckhart,
26:Do not act following customary beliefs. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
27:You can only fight the way you practice ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
28:I'm smart enough to know that I'm dumb. ~ Richard P Feynman,
29:Whenever God lays His glance, Life starts clapping! ~ Hafiz,
30:Wisdom is the daughter of experience. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
31:Art is never finished, only abandoned. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
32:From one thing, know ten thousand things. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
33:God is at home. We are in the far country. ~ Meister Eckhart,
34:Step by step walk the thousand-mile road. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
35:Be still my heart; thou hast known worse than this. ~ Homer,
36:Never depart from the way of martial arts. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
37:Reality has no inside, outside, or middle part. ~ Bodhidharma,
38:Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. ~ Leonardo Da Vinci,
39:Any place we can breathe, we can do Ninjutsu. ~ Masaaki Hatsumi,
40:Don't hate, it's too big a burden to bear. ~ Martin Luther King,
41:The beginning is the most important part of the work. ~ Plato,
42:The treasures of the heart are most valuable of all. ~ Nichiren,
43:The worst prison would be a closed heart. ~ Pope John Paul II,
44:A year from now you may wish you had started today. ~ Karen Lamb,
45:As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust First Part,
46:A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust First Part,
47:If you surrender to the Lord and call on Him with a heart full of yearning, He is bound to listen and take care of everything for you. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
48:Partial surrender is certainly possible for all. In course of time that will lead to complete surrender. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi,
49:In the world of the Unity heaven and earth are one. ~ Baha-ullah,
50:I would rather die of passion than of boredom ~ Vincent van Gogh,
51:One great cause of failure is lack of concentration. ~ Bruce Lee,
52:We joke and laugh otherwise we would start screaming. ~ Bukowski,
53:I dream of painting and then I paint my dream. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
54:In heaven an angel is no one in particular. ~ George Bernard Shaw,
55:Intellectual passion drives out sensuality. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
56:To be honest to oneself, and that is very hard to do. ~ Bruce Lee,
57:Art is to console those who are broken by life. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
58:Christ has no body now on earth but yours. ~ Saint Teresa of Avila,
59:No more talk. I'm sick of people talking. Train. ~ Masaaki Hatsumi,
60:You must throw away your bad habits to get good. ~ Masaaki Hatsumi,
61:At the crescent moonthe silenceenters my heart. ~ Chiyo-ni,
62:Every word has consequences. Every silence, too. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre,
63:In a 50-50 life or death crisis, choose death. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
64:The heart has its reasons which reason knows not. ~ Blaise Pascal,
65:Truth was the only daughter of Time. ~ Leonardo da Vinci, ., 1152,
66:Why are there beings at all, instead of Nothing? ~ Martin Heidegger,
67:From now on you must strive to cut out unnecessary ~ Masaaki Hatsumi,
68:Give the mind to studies and the heart to God. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi,
69:Think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
70:Magic is just science that we don't understand yet. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
71:Never take your eyes off your opponent, even when you bow. ~ Bruce Lee,
72:Success means doing something sincerely and wholeheartedly. ~ Bruce Lee,
73:Make your work to be in keeping with your purpose. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
74:Remember no man is really defeated unless he is discouraged. ~ Bruce Lee,
75:Concentration is the root of all the higher abilities in man. ~ Bruce Lee,
76:Develop the tools, refine the tools, then dissolve the tools. ~ Bruce Lee,
77:Do exactly what you would do if you felt most secure. ~ Meister Eckhart,
78:Every man is born as many men and dies as a single one. ~ Martin Heidegger,
79:My fear is my substance, and probably the best part of me. ~ Franz Kafka,
80:One should use common words to say uncommon things ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
81:The artist belongs to his work, not the work to the artist. ~ Novalis,
82:Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. ~ Cesar A Cruz,
83:Beauty without intelligence is like a hook without bait. ~ Molière, Tartuffe ,
84:Even if it seems certain that you will lose, retaliate. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
85:Man is condemned to be free. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism and Humanism ,
86:Even if a man has no natural ability, he can be a warrior. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
87:Fixation is the way to death. Fluidity is the way to life. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
88:He who does not enjoy solitude will not love freedom. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
89:how else but through a broken heart May Lord Christ enter in? ~ Oscar Wilde,
90:I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
91:If you know the way broadly you will see it in everything. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
92:The successful warrior is the average man, with laser-like focus. ~ Bruce Lee,
93:What is important is to spread confusion, not eliminate it. ~ Salvador Dali,
94:Discipline must conform to the nature of things in their suchness. ~ Bruce Lee,
95:The Way is in training... Do nothing which is not of value. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
96:Whatever happens on the earth—man must share the responsibility. ~ Jean Gebser,
97:A man can do what he wants, but not want what he wants. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
98:Don't fear great attempts it is glorious even to fail. ~ Bruce Lee,
99:I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free. ~ Michelangelo,
100:To win any battle, you must fight as if you are already dead ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
101:All Art is interpretation. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings Art,
102:If you are lonely when you are alone, you are in bad company. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre,
103:In the silence of the heart burns the steady fire of aspiration. ~ The Mother,
104:Know that, by nature, every creature seeks to become like God. ~ Meister Eckhart,
105:Learning is a constant process of discovery - a process without end. ~ Bruce Lee,
106:In the highest level a man has the look of knowing nothing . ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
107:One has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. ~ Martin Luther King Jr.,
108:Smooth and smiling faces everywhere, but ruin in their eyes. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre,
109:Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. ~ C S Lewis,
110:The sphinx was the riddle, not the riddler. - Maester Aemon ~ George R R Martin,
111:The unfolding of the bare human soul ... that is what interests me. ~ Bruce Lee,
112:Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all. ~ Aristotle,
113:I guess ill have to start a company, cause I cant get a job anywhere ~ Elon Musk,
114:When we are asleep in this world, we are awake in another. ~ Salvador Dali,
115:you can, you should, and if you're brave enough to start, you will. ~ Stephen King,
116:Before we love with our heart, we already love with our imagination. ~ Louise Colet,
117:Get in my lobby. Were starting the case now. ~ Major Kusanagi, Ghost in the Shell ,
118:The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again. ~ Charles Dickens,
119:A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
120:Having only wisdom and talent is the lowest tier of usefulness. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
121:If the only prayer you said was thank you, that would be enough. ~ Meister Eckhart,
122:As a man thinketh in his heart so shall he be ~ Anonymous, The Bible Proverbs 23:7,
123:Do not waste time idling or thinking after you have set your goals ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
124:Friends and acquaintances are the surest passport to fortune. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
125:How can the heart travel to God, when it is chained by its desires? ~ Ibn Arabi,
126:One should make his decisions within the space of seven breaths. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
127:Sing such a song with all of your heart that you'll never have to sing again. ~ Kabir,
128:Love the Lord full-heartedly and all will be well.In Love eternal. ~ The Mother,
129:To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind. ~ T Gantier,
130:And in her bosom nursed a greater dawn ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 12.01 - The Return to Earth,
131:Approach the enemy with the attitude of defeating him without delay. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
132:I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
133:La tristesse durera toujours.[The sadness will last forever.] ~ Vincent van Gogh,
134:The sage's rule of moral conduct has its principle in the hearts of all men. ~ Tseu-tse,
135:It's not that I'm so smart, it's just that I stay with problems longer ~ Albert Einstein,
136:To understand a program, you must become both the machine and the program. ~ Alan Perlis,
137:You put your lips upon my forehead, and lit a Holy lamp inside my heart. ~ Hafiz,
138:In battle, if you you make your opponent flinch, you have already won. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
139:In your tremendous helplessness the whole existence suddenly starts helping you. ~ Osho,
140:It may seem difficult at first, but all things are difficult at first. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
141:One can have no smaller or greater mastery than mastery of oneself. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
142:The FOOL Has Said In His Heart:There is No God!" ~ Anonymous, The Bible Psalm 14:1,
143:The lover never despairs. For a committed heart everything is possible. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
144:Genius lives only one story above madness, ~ Arthur Schopenhauer, Parerga and Paralipomena ,
145:Learn how to see. Realize that everything connects to everything else. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
146:There are books of which the backs and covers are by far the best parts. ~ Charles Dickens,
147:The price of inaction is far greater than the cost of making a mistake. ~ Meister Eckhart,
148:Although you appear in earthly form, your essence is pure consciousness. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
149:Just remember, once you're over the hill you begin to pick up speed. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
150:The path that leads to truth is littered with the bodies of the ignorant. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
151:To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
152:Take care of the kingdom of the heart, and the rest will come in addition. ~ Claudio Naranjo,
153:The super-ego is that part of the personality which is soluble in alcohol ~ Arthur Koestler,
154:We toast the Lisp programmer who pens his thoughts within nests of parentheses. ~ Alan Perlis,
155:21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. ~ Anon, The Bible Matthew,
156:The task for us now, if we are to survive, is to build the earth. ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin,
157:Hard is it to persuade earth-nature’s change; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.01 - The Symbol Dawn,
158:No one really knows why they are alive until they know what they'd die for. ~ Martin Luther King,
159:At the heart of our universe, each soul exists for God, in our Lord. ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin,
160:God had one son on earth without sin, but never one without suffering. ~ Saint Augustine of Hippo,
161:It is the destiny of things real to destroy those that are artifice. ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin,
162:The more unintelligent a man is, the less mysterious existence seems to him. ~ Arthur Schopenauer,
163:Descending from the head to the Heart is the beginning of spiritual sadhana. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi,
164:Each part in us desires its absolute. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
165:In the monastery of your heart, you have a temple where all Buddhas unite. ~ Jetsun Milarepa,
166:Lift the veil that obscures the heart, and there you will find what you are looking for. ~ Kabir,
167:Yes, yes; you’ve read thousands of books but you’ve never tried to read your own self; you rush into your temples, into your mosques, but you have never tried to enter your own heart; futile are all your battles with the devil for you have never tried to fight your own desires. ~ Bulleh Shah,
168:On my tombstone, I really hope that someday they will write: He was true but partial. ~ Ken Wilber,
169:Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone. ~ Pablo Picasso,
170:A goal is not always meant to be reached, it often serves simply as something to aim at. ~ Bruce Lee,
171:I roamed the countryside searching for answers to things I did not understand. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
172:To copy on earth’s copies is his art. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.02 - The Kingdom of Subtle Matter,
173:It may be that our role on this planet is not to worship God - but to create him. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
174:Purity is something that cannot be attained except by piling effort upon effort. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
175:You use a glass mirror to see your face; you use works of art to see your soul. ~ George Bernard Shaw,
176:A language that doesn't affect the way you think about programming is not worth knowing. ~ Alan Perlis,
177:And all grows beautiful because Thou art. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Divine Hearing,
178:Genius is patience. ~ Anonymous Proverb, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations 10th ed. (1919),
179:Hateful to me as are the gates of hell Is he who hiding one thing in his heart Utters another. ~ Homer,
180:There's a child in the forest! He plays a flute you can hear with your heart ears. ~ TheMidnightGospel,
181:To desire with one’s very soul every second of every day to accomplish one’s aim. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
182:True appreciation of his own value will make a man really indifferent to insult. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
183:All religions, arts and sciences are branches of the same tree. ~ Albert Einstein, Relativity ,
184:Each part in us desires its absolute. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
185:Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr. ,
186:The great thing about being a writer is that you are always re-creating yourself. ~ Martin Cruz Smith,
187:Those who self-righteously value their own contradictions are mighty on this Earth. ~ Peter J Carroll,
188:While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
189:In my heart’s chamber lives the unworshipped God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.56 - Omnipresence,
190:The art of programming is the skill of controlling complexity. ~ Marijn Haverbeke, Eloquent JavaScript ,
191:A lovely face is the solace of wounded hearts and the key of locked-up gates. ~ Saadi,
192:Man is on earth as in an egg. ~ Heraclitus,
193:All men participate in the possibility of self-knowledge. ~ Heraclitus,
194:Men who love wisdom should acquaint themselves with a great many particulars. ~ Heraclitus,
195:Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still. ~ Maimonides,
196:Act your part with honor. ~ Epictetus,
197:Act well your given part; the choice rests not with you. ~ Epictetus,
198:Tell yourself what you want to be, then act your part accordingly. ~ Epictetus,
199:Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to get rid of it. Oh, the destiny of man ! ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther ,
200:Mystery is truth's dancing partner. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
201:'To change one's life: 1. Start immediately. 2. Do it flamboyantly. 3. No exceptions.' ~ William James,
202:You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you. ~ Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing ,
203:A wise man can learn more from a foolish question than a fool can learn from a wise answer. ~ Bruce Lee,
204:Her smile could persuade a dead lacerated heart ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.04 - The Triple Soul-Forces,
205:One must be very particular about telling the truth. Through truth one can realize God. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
206:Nothing in this world is created, all is manifested. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings Art,
207:Why does the eye see a thing more clearly in dreams than the imagination when awake? ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
208:Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
209:Talent hits a target no one else can hit; Genius hits a target no one else can see. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
210:Theoretical knowledge has no end. Take to heart and practice what you have learned. ~ Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche,
211:When I start to write, I don't have any plan at all. I just wait for the story to come. ~ Haruki Murakami,
212:I saw my Lord with the eye of the heartI asked, 'Who are You?'He replied, 'You'. ~ Mansur al-Hallaj,
213:Magick is the art of causing changes in consciousness to occur in accordance with the will. ~ Dion Fortune,
214:Our minds are starters in the race to God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
215:The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure ~ Joseph Campbell,
216:The earth you tread is a border screened from heaven ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.03 - The Call to the Quest,
217:Do not hate the evil-hearted, the jealous and the selfish. It is they who promote your Mok ~ Swami Sivananda,
218:Faith is not the clinging to a shrine but an endless pilgrimage of the heart. ~ Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel,
219:If you are slain in battle, you should be resolved to have your corpse facing the enemy. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
220:The heart is wiser than the thought. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 3.01 - Love and the Triple Path,
221:There is a purpose in each stumble and fall. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
222:The sword has to be more than a simple weapon; it has to be an answer to life's questions. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
223:All time is one body, Space a single look. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
224:To know and to will are two operations of the human mind. ~ Leonardo da Vinci, Notesboooks Philosophy,
225:Truth born too soon might break the imperfect earth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.04 - The Vision and the Boon,
226:Whatever our hearts conceive, our heads create, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.02 - The Kingdom of Subtle Matter,
227:You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending. ~ C S Lewis,
228:If people knew how hard I had to work to gain my mastery, it would not seem so wonderful at all. ~ Michelangelo,
229:Immortal bliss lives not in human air. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
230:The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance. ~ Aristotle,
231:The occult is a part of existence. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 2.15 - Reality and the Integral Knowledge,
232:The only way to discover the limits of the possible is to go beyond them into the impossible. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
233:The principal mark of genius is not perfection but originality, the opening of new frontiers. ~ Arthur Koestler,
234:No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. ~ John Donne,
235:The Divine's peace must dwell constantly in our hearts. With my Blessings. ~ The Mother, Mantras Of The Mother ,
236:The reading of all good books is like a conversation with the finest minds of past centuries. ~ Rene Descartes,
237:The soul is a figure of the Unmanifest, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
238:We think according to what we are. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art Bertrand Russell,
239:Aspiring he transcends his earthly self. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.02 - The Parable of the Search for the Soul,
240:Diamonds are to be found only in the darkness of the earth, and truth in the darkness of the mind. ~ Vicktor Hugo,
241:Eternal truth lives not with mortal men. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
242:For anyone, man or woman, who has faith in me, I have never departed. I sleep on their threshold. ~ Guru Rinpoche,
243:Live within, in the depth of your heart, and nobody or nothing will have the power to disturb you. ~ The Mother,
244:The depth of the heart, the retired corner, and the forest are the three places for meditation. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
245:And in the heart of the worst the best shall be born by my wisdom. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
246:Art’s brilliant gleam is a pastime for his eyes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
247:Thou art thyself the author of thy pain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
248:Words are but ghosts unless they speak the heart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
249:Anything is possible. The point is to keep your heart and mind open to the likelihood of change. ~ Tsoknyi Rinpoche,
250:Faith is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted in spite of your changing moods. ~ C S Lewis,
251:Love is the hoop of the godsHearts to combine. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
252:The evening sky,God’s canopy of blue sheltering our lives ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 12.01 - The Return to Earth,
253:The mind labours to think the Unthinkable. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
254:Without reason life is a tangle of dreams, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
255:A wide Compassion leans to embrace earth’s pain; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
256:The inner self is as distinct from the outer self as heaven is from earth. ~ Emanuel Swedenborg, Secrets of Heaven ,
257:A vast subliminal is man’s measureless part. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.02 - The Parable of the Search for the Soul,
258:LISP programmers know the value of everything and the cost of nothing. ~ Alan Perlis, , (take on an Oscar Wilde quote),
259:My mind is a torch lit from the eternal sun. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
260:Space is a stillness of God building his earthly abode. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry Trance of Waiting,
261:There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting. ~ Buddha,
262:The world is not cut off from Truth and God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
263:Everyone is going toward God. They will all realize Him if they have sincerity and longing of heart. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
264:Heaven’s joys might have been earth’s if earth were pure. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Glory and Fall of Life,
265:If one completes the journey to one's own heart, one will find oneself in the heart of everyone else. ~ Thomas Keating,
266:It is vision that sees Truth, not logic. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art Bertrand Russell,
267:Only a slow advance the earth can bear. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
268:The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you'll never have. ~ Soren Kierkegaard,
269:A beam of the Eternal smites his heart, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King The Yoga of the Souls Release,
270:An optimist may see a light where there is none, but why must the pessimist always run to blow it out? ~ Rene Descartes,
271:Nobler must kings be than natures of earth on whom Zeus lays no burden. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
272:Tenderly explore despair as if you were examining the most sensitive parts of a just-traumatized lover. ~ David Deida,
273:The painful secret of gods and kings is that men are free... You know it and they do not. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, The Flies ,
274:When weak or injured always continue training as you should always be able to adapt in any condition. ~ Masaaki Hatsumi,
275:In finite things the conscious Infinite dwells: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
276:Instead of clearing his own heart the zealot tries to clear the world. ~ Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces ,
277:There are many parts of us that do not wish to work, so the moment you begin to work, friction starts. ~ P D Ouspensky,
278:Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
279:Wicked thoughts and worthless efforts gradually set their mark on the face, especially the eyes. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
280:Each of us is something of a schizophrenic personality, tragically divided against ourselves. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr. ,
281:Hidden in the mortal’s heart the Eternal lives: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
282:If the earth is flat, how deep is flat earth?How far do we have to dig to kill the turtle? ~ Youtube Comment, Lucatsan ,
283:They wander in darkness seeking light, failing to realize that the light is in the heart of the darkness. ~ Manly P Hall,
284:When scientific power outruns spiritual power, we end up with guided missles and misguided men. ~ Martin Luther King Jr.,
285:A good means to discovery is to take away certain parts of a system to find out how the rest behaves. ~ Georg C Lichtenberg,
286:Alike ‘tis heaven,Rule or obedience to the one heart given. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Khaled of the Sea,
287:A year spent in artificial intelligence is enough to make one believe in God ~ Alan Perlis, Epigrams in Programming 1982,
288:Commercialism is still the heart of modern civilisation. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle Civilisation and Culture,
289:One ought to hold on to one's heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
290:Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord. ~ Anonymous, The Bible Psalms 31:24,
291:Don't open your diamonds in a vegetable market. Tie them in bundle and keep them in your heart, and go your own way. ~ Kabir,
292:Even if one's head were to be suddenly cut off, he should be able to do one more action with certainty. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
293:I can't imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once. ~ C S Lewis, Letter to Arthur Greeves (February 1932) ,
294:Never undertake anything unless you have the heart to ask Heaven's blessing on your undertaking. ~ Georg C Lichtenberg,
295:So high is my Lord’s palace, my heart trembles to mount its stairs: yet I must not be shy, if I would enjoy His love. ~ Kabi,
296:By contact with the facts of life Art attains to vitality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 0.03 - The Threefold Life,
297:Do not read to satisfy curiosity or to pass the time, but study such things as move your heart to devotion. ~ Thomas a Kempis,
298:Having once seen God, man can have no farther object in life than to reach and possess Him. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Isha Upanishad ,
299:I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre,
300:Start by doing what's necessary, then what's possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible. ~ Saint Francis of Assisi,
301:The condition of freedom is the search for truth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The Revival of Indian Art,
302:The heart is the meeting place of God and the Soul. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Bande Mataram - II The Soul and India’s Mission,
303:The tyrant dies and his rule is over, the martyr dies and his rule begins. ~ Soren Kierkegaard, The Journals of Kierkegaard ,
304:A warrior is worthless unless he rises above others and stands strong in the midst of a storm. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo, 1659-1719 ,
305:But please remember: this is only a work of fiction. The truth, as always, will be far stranger. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
306:If you want union in the world, first unify the different parts of your own being. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother III ,
307:Imagine the world so greatly magnified that particles of light look like twenty-four-pound cannon balls. ~ Georg C Lichtenberg,
308:Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment ,
309:The difficulty is to try and teach the multitude that something can be true and untrue at the same time. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
310:Once one is in full sadhana, sleep becomes as much a part of it as waking. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep,
311:The Age of Nations is past. The task before us now, if we would not perish, is to build the Earth. ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin,
312:Truth is not what you want it to be; it is what it is, and you must bend to its power or live a lie. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
313:As every divided kingdom falls, so every mind divided between many studies confounds and saps itself ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
314:Equality, not indifference is the basis. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind,
315:I know by myself how incomprehensible God is, seeing I cannot comprehend the parts of my own being. ~ Saint Bernard of Clairvaux,
316:The Self is God. `I AM' is God. If God be apart from the Self, He must be a Selfless God, which is absurd. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi,
317:The song that nerves the nation’s heart is in itself a deed. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Bande Mataram - I The Writing on the Wall,
318:The song that nerves the nation’s heart is in itself a deed. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Bande Mataram - I The Writing on the Wall,
319:A mighty shuddering coil of ecstasy Crept through the deep heart of the universe. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.01 - The Word of Fate,
320:Daring ideas are like chessmen moved forward; they may be beaten, but they may start a winning game. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
321:Easy are mortalHearts to be bent by Fate and soon we consent to our fortunes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
322:If they give it to the rich they call it a subsidy; if they give it to the poor they call it a hand-out. ~ Martin Luther King Jr.,
323:It is only when you touch the higher that you realize how low we may be among the possibilities of creation. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
324:Magick is the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will. ~ Aleister Crowley, Liber ABA Book 4,
325:Order is indeed the law of life, but not an artificial regulation. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle Diversity in Oneness,
326:Reason is science, it is conscious art, it is invention. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle The Reason as Governor of Life,
327:The most satisfying thing in life is to have been able to give a large part of one's self to others. ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin,
328:Its builder is thought, its base the heart’s desire. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
329:Sheer objectivity brings us down from art to photography. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry Poetic Vision and the Mantra,
330:A great joy is always deep in our heart, and always we can find it there. With my blessings ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
331:And channel to earth-mind the wizard ray ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day The Souls Choice and the Supreme Consummation,
332:A thousand days of training to develop, ten thousand days of training to polish. You must examine all this well. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
333:In the silence of the heart, you will receive the command. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II Peace and Silence,
334:The birds crying for heart’s happiness,Winged poets of our solitary reign ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 12.01 - The Return to Earth,
335:A jingling silver laugh of anklet bellsTravelled the roads of a solitary heart; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.14 - The World-Soul,
336:He is the adventurer and cosmologistOf a magic earth’s obscure geography. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
337:Nor punishes. Impartially he dealsTo every strenuous spirit its chosen reward. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Urvasie,
338:Too heavy falls a Shadow on man’s heart;It dares not be too happy upon earth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.01 - The Word of Fate,
339:In every heart is hidden the myriad One. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 09.02 - The Journey in Eternal Night and the Voice of the Darkness,
340:That knowledge which purifies the mind and heart alone is true Knowledge, all else is only a negation of Knowledge. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
341:To lift our hopes heaven-high and to extend themAs wide as earth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act I,
342:Unity is sweet substance of the heartAnd not a chain that binds. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
343:Grief too long continued does not help but delays the journey of the departed soul. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - I 3.04 - The Spirit in Spirit-Land after Death,
344:She made earth her home, for whom heaven was too small. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.11 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Mind,
345:The main business of the heart, its true function is love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.14 - The Power of the Instruments,
346:There will be nothing else to do, and nothing else to pursue. Live being true to the single purpose of the moment. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
347:A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. ~ Abraham Maslow,
348:Calmness is the criterion of spiritual progress. Plunge the purified mind into the Heart. Then the work is over. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi,
349:Rise with the world in thy bosom,O Word gathered into the heart of the Ineffable. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry the Ascent,
350:Alone of gods Death loves not gifts: he visitsThe pure heart as the stained. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
351:A new light shall break upon the earth, a light of Truth and Harmony. With my blessings. ~ The Mother, Mantras of the Mother 24 December,
352:I, like all artists in Western cultures, am a shaman...come in the guise of a heal perception by using...'jokes'. ~ Bill Hicks,
353:Of what use are the godsIf they crown not our just desires on earth? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
354:The aim of our life on earth is to become conscious of the Divine. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II 1.01 - The True Aim of Life,
355:Yoga of Bhakti is a matter of the heart and not of the intellect. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 3.02 - The Motives of Devotion,
356:A sincere heart is worth all the extraordinary powers in the world. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - I 5.4.02 - Occult Powers or Siddhis,
357:Look into the depths of your heart and you will see the Divine Presence. With my Blessings. ~ The Mother, Mantras Of The Mother 14 July,
358:Nature must flower into artAnd science, or else wherefore are we men? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
359:To give a person an opinion one must first judge well whether that person is of the disposition to receive it or not. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
360:What is expressed is always only a part of what is behind. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV The Power of Expression and Yoga,
361:A dry and strong or even austere logic is not a key to Truth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art Bertrand Russell,
362:Although it is not true that all conservatives are stupid people, it is true that most stupid people are conservative. ~ John Stuart Mill,
363:Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters; united with it, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of marvels. ~ Goya,
364:It vexes me greatly that having to earn my living has forced me to interrupt the work and to attend to small matters. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
365:Music deepens the emotions and harmonises them with each other. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
366:Part of the maturity of the sciences is an appreciation of which questions are best left to other disciplinary approaches. ~ Howard Gardner,
367:The Master of man and his infinite Lover,He is close to our hearts, had we vision to see. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
368:The strength of every particular individual is the strength of God and not his own. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin Facts and Opinions,
369:265. Care not for time and success. Act out thy part, whether it be to fail or to prosper. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine And Human 3.1.10 - Karma,
370:A designer is an emerging synthesis of artist, inventor, mechanic, objective economist and evolutionary strategist. ~ R Buckminster Fuller,
371:Excellence in any department can be attained only by the labor of a lifetime; it is not to be purchased at a lesser price ~ Samuel Johnson,
372:Form cannot unveil the indwelling Power;Only it throws its symbols at our hearts. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 05.03 - Satyavan and Savitri,
373:Heart feels for heart, limb cries for answering limb;All strives to enforce the unity all is. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 05.02 - Satyavan,
374:Hidden in an earthly garment that survives,I am the worldless being vast and free. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Conscious Immortality,
375:If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us. ~ Hermann Hesse,
376:Polish your wisdom: learn public justice, distinguish between good and evil, study the ways of different arts one by one. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
377:Behind all eyes I meet Thy secret gazeAnd in each voice I hear Thy magic tune: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.61 - Because Thou Art,
378:Earth’s pains were the ransom of its prisoned delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
379:For the most part men are the slaves of their associations. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Kena and Other Upanishads On Translating the Upanishads,
380:Start with God - the first step in learning is bowing down to God; only fools thumb their noses at such wisdom and learning. ~ King Solomon,
381:The Divine manifests upon earth whenever and wherever it is possible. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II 1.02 - The Divine Is with You,
382:The essential is to think that anything you are doing has to become the occasion for slashing. You must examine this well. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
383:But within there is a soul and above there is Grace. 'This is all you know or need to know' ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Poetry And Art ,
384:Which of Sri Aurobindo's books should I start with?The Life Divine.My blessings.11 March 1941 ~ The Mother, On Education ,
385:Let us give joy to all, for joy is ours.For not for ourselves alone our spirits came ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 12.01 - The Return to Earth,
386:Love in her was wider than the universe,The whole world could take refuge in her single heart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.02 - The Issue,
387:Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination... go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius. ~ Mozart,
388:Our works are part of an indivisible cosmic action. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 1.07 - Standards of Conduct and Spiritual Freedom,
389:The enemy only has images and illusions behind which he hides his true motives. Destroy the image and you will break the enemy. ~ Bruce Lee,
390:The English Bible is a translation, but it ranks among the finest pieces of literature in the world. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art ,
391:Throughout your life advance daily, becoming more skillful than yesterday, more skillful than today. This is never-ending. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
392:Whatever is mechanical and artificial is inoperative for good. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings A System of National Education,
393:All education is the art of making men ethical (sittlich), of transforming the old Adam into the new Adam. ~ Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel,
394:Earth’s grain that needs the sap of pleasure and tearsRejected the undying rapture’s boon: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.01 - The Symbol Dawn,
395:Heaven ever young and earth too firm and oldDelay the heart by immobility: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.01 - The Dream Twilight of the Ideal,
396:If one wants to do a divine work upon earth, one must come with tons of patience and endurance. ~ The Mother, Questions And Answers 1954 ,
397:I have a sweet little Mother Who lives in my heart; We are so happy together, We shall never part. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother III ,
398:In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one. ~ Saint Paul, 16).php">(Eph..php">16) ,
399:Logic can serve any turn proposed to it by the mind’s preferences. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art Bertrand Russell,
400:Only what the man admires and accepts, becomes part of himself; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings A System of National Education,
401:Our earth is a fragment and a residue;Her power is packed with the stuff of greater worlds ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.01 - The World-Stair,
402:Sometimes I think we're alone in the universe, and sometimes I think we're not. In either case the idea is quite staggering. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
403:The great person is ahead of their time, the smart make something out of it, and the blockhead, sets themselves against it. ~ Jean Baudrillard,
404:Here where our half-lit ignorance skirts the gulfsOn the dumb bosom of the ambiguous earth, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.01 - The Symbol Dawn,
405:"I love your feetonly because they walkedupon the earth and uponthe wind and upon the waters,until they found me." ~ Pablo Neruda,
406:To see things as parts, as incomplete elements is a lower analytic knowledge. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.17 - The Soul and Nature,
407:You have been called to heal wounds, to unite what has fallen apart, and to bring home those who have lost their way. ~ Saint Francis of Assisi,
408:Climbing from Nature’s deep surrendered heartIt blooms for ever at the feet of God, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.12 - The Heavens of the Ideal,
409:I, Earth, have a deeper power than Heaven;My lonely sorrow surpasses its rose-joys. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Life Heavens,
410:In the inconscient dreadful dumb AbyssAre heard the heart-beats of the Infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.The Unseen Infinite,
411:Live as though only God and yourself were in this world, so that your heart may not be detained by anything human. ~ Saint John of the Cross,
412:The heart of man is nearer to the Truth than his intelligence. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Renaissance in India Indian Spirituality and Life - I,
413:There was no second, it had no partner or peer;Only itself was real to itself. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.01 - The Pursuit of the Unknowable,
414:The white passion of God-ecstasyThat laughs in the blaze of the boundless heart of Love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.13 - In the Self of Mind,
415:Thy golden Light came down into my feet;My earth is now Thy playfield and Thy seat. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.26 - The Golden Light,
416:Time voyages with Thee upon its prow,—And all the future’s passionate hope is Thou. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.61 - Because Thou Art,
417:Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness. ~ Kahlil Gibran,
418:Until man in his heart is ready, a profound change of the world conditions cannot come. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle Internationalism,
419:Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. ~ Anonymous, The Bible Psalms 46:10,
420:Even wisdom, hewer of the roads of God,Is a partner in the deep disastrous game: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
421:If you spend too much time thinking about a thing, you'll never get it done. Make at least one definite move daily toward your goal." ~ Bruce Lee,
422:Man is at present only partly liberated from the animal involution. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga The Gradations of the Supermind,
423:No Joy is comparable to the feeling of the eternal Presence in one's heart. With my Blessings. ~ The Mother, Mantras Of The Mother 04 July,
424:We shouldn't stick too close to everyday reality but give room to the reality of the heart, of the mind, and of the imagination. ~ Hayao Miyazaki,
425:Heaven’s call is rare, rarer the heart that heeds. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
426:In a flaming moment of apocalypseThe Incarnation thrust aside its veil. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
427:In light of heaven, the worst suffering on earth will be seen to be no more serious than one night in an inconvenient hotel. ~ Saint Teresa of Avila,
428:The intellect too exclusively developed misses what the heart has to offer. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 3.01 - Love and the Triple Path,
429:When you tear out a man's tongue, you are not proving him a liar, you're only telling the world that you fear what he might say. ~ George R R Martin,
430:I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
431:In the silence and not in the thought we shall find the Self. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind,
432:Its certitudes are relative and for the most part precarious certainties. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga The Nature of the Supermind,
433:Like the sweet kindly earth whose patient loveEmbraces even our faults and sins. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act II,
434:The divine detachment must be the foundation for a divine participation in Nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita 2.04 - The Secret of Secrets,
435:The heart’s love allies itself readily with a vital desire in the body. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.05 - The Instruments of the Spirit,
436:The highest spiritual truth can be lived, can be seen, but can only be partially stated. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita 2.01 - The Two Natures,
437:The idea is only a partial expression of the spirit. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Renaissance in India A Rationalistic Critic on Indian Culture - VI,
438:The phantom of a dark and evil startGhostlike pursues all that we dream and do. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
439:When you have eliminated all that is impossible, whatever remains must be the truth, no matter how improbably. - Sherlock Holmes ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
440:A painter should begin every canvas with a wash of black, because all things in nature are dark except where exposed by the light. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
441:A silence in the noise of earthly thingsImmutably revealed the secret Word, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.01 - The Birth and Childhood of the Flame,
442:A silence in the noise of earthly thingsImmutably revealed the secret Word, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.01 - The Birth and Childhood of the Flame,
443:Earth-existence cannot be the result of the human mind which is itself the result of earth-existence. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine The Nature of Consciousness: Essays on the Unity of Mind and Matter,
444:Grief dies soon in the tired human heart;Soon other guests the empty chambers fill. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
445:In each heart, the Divine's Presence is the promise of future and possible perfections. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II 1.02 - The Divine Is with You,
446:Pain is the hammer of the Gods to break A dead resistance in the mortals heart, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
447:The Grace will never fail us - such is the faith we must keep constantly in our heart. With my blessings ~ The Mother, Mantras Of The Mother 10 May,
448:As rain-thrashed mire the marvel of the rose,Earth waits that distant marvel to disclose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Silver Call,
449:Authors of earth’s high change, to you it is givenTo cross the dangerous spaces of the soul ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.03 - The Call to the Quest,
450:(Darshan Message) Sri Aurobindo's message is an immortal sunlight radiating over the future. 15 August 1972 1wordlist AUTHORS BOOKS-INFO cats CHEATSHEETS COMMANDS d20 dc-empty define-1355 DICTIONARIES DICTIONARIES-2020-03-23 DOCS.RACKET DOCS.RACKET_W_LINKS goodreads_books_data goodreads_books_data-raw GRAMMER keys keys_2020-03-29 keys_2020-06-04 keys_2020-06-05 keys_2020-06-27 keys-2020-08-14 keys-2020-10-13 keys.bak-2020-02-11 keys-bak-2020-09-14 LISTS MEDIA_LISTS MEM_AUDIO_199 most new_keys_subject_tagged new_keys_subject_tagged.php_tagged new_keys_subject_tagged_r NEWLIB PARTIAL_FORMATTED plants PROGRAMS QUOTES RESUMES sedrnS19w sss_7418_2019-12-18 style.css subjects subjects_wo_periods syn syn1 synonyms temp temp1 temp_11 test5 todo twitter_full_s TWITTER-RIPS VG WEB_ADDRESSES WIKI wordincarnate_SA_4500 wordincarnate_SA_clean wordincarnate_SA_clean2 WORDLIST wordlist wordlist (3rd copy) wordlist (another copy) wordlist-broken maybe wordlist-config wordlist (copy) wordlist-ru wordlist-temp wordlist-u ZZ ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother I ,
451:In the twilight of life, God will not judge us on our earthly possessions and human successes, but on how well we have loved. ~ Saint John of the Cross,
452:My love is not a hunger of the heart, My love is not a craving of the flesh; It came to me from God, to God returns. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Divine Plan ,
453:Our hearts clutch at a forfeited heavenly bliss. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
454:The vital can take part in a movement but it must not be in control. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV The Vital and Other Levels of Being,
455:They can be like the sun, words.They can do for the heart what light can for a field. ~ Saint John of the Cross, The Poems of St. John of the Cross ,
456:To be alone is the fate of all great minds-a fate deplored at times, but still always chosen as the less grievous of two evils. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
457:Whatever torch we kindle, and whatever space it may illuminate, our horizon will always remain encircled by the depth of night. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
458:A mistake must always be acknowledged and corrected. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
459:And he departed from our sight that we might return to our hearts and find him there. For he left us, and behold, he is here. ~ Saint Augustine of Hippo,
460:But once the hidden doors are flung apartThen the veiled king steps out in Nature’s front; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.05 - The Finding of the Soul,
461:Forewilled by the gods, Alexander,All things happen on earth and yet we must strive who are mortals, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
462:Intellectual sympathy can only draw together, the sympathy of the heart can alone unite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin “Swaraj” and the Musulmans,
463:In this rude combat with the fate of manThy smile within my heart makes all my strength; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.18 - The Divine Worker,
464:Reason is poised above a dim abyssAnd stands at last upon a plank of doubt. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
465:Sincerity ::: To allow no part of the being to contradict the highest aspiration towards the Divine ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Yoga - II Agenda Vol 5,
466:urage and jubilation. This is rising to a higher level. It is like the saying, “The more water there is, the higher the boat rises. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
467:According to some estimates, almost half the scientists and high technologists on Earth are employed full- or part-time on military matters. ~ Carl Sagan,
468:For joy and not for sorrow earth was madeAnd not as a dream in endless suffering Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
469:Mental knowledge is not an integral but always a partial knowledge. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga The Supramental Thought and Knowledge,
470:Our mortal vision peers with ignorant eyes;It has no gaze on the deep heart of things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
471:The passion of oneness two hearts are this momentDenies the steps of death for ever. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act II,
472:The will of a single hero can breathe courage into the hearts of a million cowards. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The Real Difficulty,
473:Vain are human power and human loveTo break earth’s seal of ignorance and death; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.02 - The Adoration of the Divine Mother,
474:You should not have a favorite weapon. To become over-familiar with one weapon is as much a fault as not knowing it sufficiently well. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
475:A formless yearning passions in man’s heart,A cry is in his blood for happier things ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
476:Delight of the heart in God is the whole constituent and essence of true Bhakti. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita 2.07 - The Supreme Word of the Gita,
477:Ideal dreams,Those intimate transmuters of earth’s signsThat make known things a hint of unseen spheres ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 05.02 - Satyavan,
478:It's just an idea, if you want to use any of the articles. But sure, you have to write your own gnosis. 2020-03-06 ~ M Alan Kazlev, to Josh FB Messenger,
479:The luminous heart of the Unknown is she,A power of silence in the depths of God; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.02 - The Adoration of the Divine Mother,
480:The Many are the innumerable One,The One carries the multitude in his breast. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
481:Blessed will be the day when the earth, awaken to the Truth, lives only for the Divine. With My Blessings. ~ The Mother, Mantras Of The Mother 28 August,
482:Earth’s winged chimaeras are Truth’s steeds in Heaven,The impossible God’s sign of things to be. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
483:One must first be conscious before one can be ignorant. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
484:The element of the vital being is not earth but air; it has more movement, less status. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 2.25 - The Triple Transformation,
485:The Might that came upon the earth to bless,Has stayed on earth to suffer and aspire. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
486:The Might that came upon the earth to bless,Has stayed on earth to suffer and aspire. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
487:But I have loved too the body of my God.I have pursued him in his earthly form. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
488:It glided into the lotus of her heartAnd woke in it the Force that alters Fate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
489:It is the true more than the new that the poet is after. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
490:To lavish upon all men love and trustShows the heart’s royalty, not the brain’s craft. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act II,
491:Busy our hearts are weaving thoughts and images always:After their kind they see what here we call truth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
492:Earth’s eyes half-see, her forces half-create;Her rarest works are copies of heaven’s art. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.02 - The Kingdom of Subtle Matter,
493:Why are we on earth? To find the Divine who is in each of us and in all things. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II The True Aim of Life [3],
494:Morning has pleasure, noon has golden peaceAnd afternoon repose and eve the heart’s increase. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
495:Must first have striven, many must have failedBefore a great thing can be done on earth, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
496:Not merely peace, but fulfilment is what the heart of the world is seeking. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.12 - The Realisation of Sachchidananda,
497:This world behind is made of truer stuff        Than the manufactured tissue of earth’s grace. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.69 - The Inner Fields,
498:Those who shall part who have grown one being within?Death’s grip can break our bodies, not our souls; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.01 - The Word of Fate,
499:We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time. ~ T S Eliot,
500:Accommodation of mental structures to reality implies the existence of assimilatory schemata apart from which any structure would be impossible. ~ Jean Piaget,
501:Accurate reading on a wide range of subjects makes the scholar; careful selection of the better makes the saint. ~ John of Salisbury, Bishop of Chartres ,
502:But standing on Eternity’s luminous brinkI have discovered that the world was He; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
503:If you seek God with your whole heart, then you may be assured that Grace of God is also seeking you. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi, Conscious Immortality Ch 7,
504:Light, burning Light from the Infinite’s diamond heartQuivers in my heart where blooms the deathless rose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Light,
505:Love cannot live by heavenly food alone,Only on sap of earth can it survive. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
506:A presence sits within my heart that seesEach moment’s need and finds the road to meet it. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act IV,
507:A smile on her lips welcomed earth’s bliss and grief,A laugh was her return to pleasure and pain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.05 - The Finding of the Soul,
508:He sowed the desert with ruddy-hearted rose,The sweetest voice that ever spoke in prose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Bankim Chandra Chatterji,
509:His science is an artificer of doom;He ransacks earth for means to harm his kind; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
510:O Death, thou too art God and yet not He,But only his own black shadow on his path ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
511:Where there is Isness, there God is. Creation is the giving of isness from God. And that is why God becomes where any creature expresses God. ~ Meister Eckhart,
512:That which God said to the rose, and caused it to laugh in full-blown beauty, He said to my heart, and made it a hundred times more beautiful. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
513:The Mother of all godheads and all strengthsWho, mediatrix, binds earth to the Supreme. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.02 - The Adoration of the Divine Mother,
514:The passions, even the passion for good, misrepresent the divine nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind,
515:The passions, even the passion for good, misrepresent the divine nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind,
516:The regulating and beautiful arrangement of character and action is the art of life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
517:The world is only a partial manifestation of the Godhead, it is not itself that Divinity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita The Theory of the Vibhuti,
518:God manifests Himself in the individual partially, but He stands behind the progress of the world wholly. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin Facts and Opinions,
519:Hasteners to action, violators of GodAre these great spirits who have too much love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
520:The whole future of the Earth, as of religion, seems to me to depend on the awakening of our faith in the future. ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, The Future of Man ,
521:Thou must die to thyself to reach God’s height:I, Death, am the gate of immortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
522:All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
523:Intellect is part of Mind and an instrument of half-truth like the rest of the Mind. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV Intellect and the Intellectual,
524:In the mind’s silence the Transcendent actsAnd the hushed heart hears the unuttered Word. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.02 - The Adoration of the Divine Mother,
525:Its light stirs man the thinker to createAn earthly semblance of diviner things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
526:A cultivated eye without a cultivated spirit makes by no means the highest type of man. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
527:A still deep sea, he laughs in rolling waves;Universal, he is all,—transcendent, none. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
528:Came Reason, the squat godhead artisan,To her narrow house upon a ridge in Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
529:It has joined its hunger to the hunger of earth,It has given the law of craving to our lives, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
530:The outer change is necessary but as a part of the inner change. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - III The Danger of the Ego and the Need of Purification,
531:All things hang here between God’s yes and no,Two Powers real but to each other untrue. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
532:And from the unsounded depths of the Unknown a reply came sublime and formidable and we knew that the earth was saved. ~ The Mother, Prayers And Meditations ,
533:As for ourselves, let each one of us dig down after the root of evil which is within one and let one pluck it out of one's heart from the root. ~ Gospel of Thomas,
534:Only on the heart’s veiled door the word of flameIs written, the secret and tremendous Name. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
535:The peak of empathogens can be characterised as earthly paradise in comparison to the heavenly paradise of LSD and hallucinogens of that category. ~ Claudio Naranjo,
536:The Power that from her being’s summit reigned,The Presence chambered in lotus secrecy, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
537:A fatal seed was sown in life’s false startWhen evil twinned with good on earthly soil. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
538:Drama is the poet’s vision of some part of the world-act in the life of the human soul. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry The Course of English Poetry - II,
539:Passions that crumble to ashes while they blazeKindled the common earth with their brief flame. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
540:Philosophies that strip all problems bareBut nothing ever have solved since earth began, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
541:There Matter is the Spirit’s firm density,An artistry of glad outwardness of self. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.03 - The House of the Spirit and the New Creation,
542:Earth must transform herself and equal HeavenOr Heaven descend into earth’s mortal state. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.02 - The Parable of the Search for the Soul,
543:Equality is not fulfilled till it takes its positive form of love and delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind,
544:Heaven's sun forces its way through death and night; Its light is seen upon our being's verge... ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
545:If by setting one’s heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he gains freedom in the Way. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
546:Mind, a glorious traveller in the sky,Walks lamely on the earth with footsteps slow. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
547:Poetry and art are born mediators between the immaterial and the concrete, the spirit and life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry The Ideal Spirit of Poetry,
548:The supraphysical is as real as the physical; to know it is part of a complete knowledge. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 2.15 - Reality and the Integral Knowledge,
549:God as beauty, Srikrishna in Brindavan, Shyamasundara, is not only Beauty, He is also Love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
550:God is not remote from us. He is at the point of my pen, my (pick) shovel, my paint brush, my (sewing) needle - and my heart and thoughts. ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin,
551:The object of existence is not the practice of virtue for its own sake but ānanda, delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
552:The wise are tranquil; silent the great hillsRise ceaselessly towards their unreached sky, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
553:Earth cannot long resist the man whom Heaven has chosen;Gods with him walk; his chariot is led; his arm is assisted. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
554:Hoof-Mark on Breast (Sri Vatsa)To lift our hopes heaven-high and to extend themAs wide as earth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act I,
555:It stirred in the lotus of her throat of song,And in her speech throbbed the immortal Word, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
556:On earth by the will of this Arch-IntelligenceA bodiless energy put on Matter’s robe; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
557:Our attention must be fixed on the earth because our work is here. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Mother with Letters on The Mother Some Occult and Spiritual Experiences,
558:An individual salvation in heavens beyond careless of the earth is not our highest objective. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.18 - The Soul and Its Liberation,
559:Imagined scenes or great eternal worlds,Dream-caught or sensed, they touch our hearts with their depths; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Glory and Fall of Life,
560:By Power, not Light, the great Gods rule the world;Power is the arm of God, the seal of Fate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
561:Even now hints of a luminous Truth like starsArise in the mind-mooned splendour of Ignorance; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
562:Evolution proceeds relentlessly in its course trampling to pieces all that it no longer needs. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
563:It is finished, the dread mysterious sacrifice,Offered by God’s martyred body for the world; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
564:Magic of percept joined with concept’s artAnd lent to each object an interpreting name. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
565:Mind is a tissue woven of light and shadeWhere right and wrong have sewn their mingled parts; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
566:This is the Nemesis of men who riseToo suddenly by fraud or violenceThat they suspect all hearts. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
567:Unsatisfied forces in her bosom move;They are partners of her greater growing fateAnd her return to immortality; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.01 - The World-Stair,
568:It is the physical that fears and abhors suffering, but the vital takes it as part of the play of life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV Sorrow and Suffering,
569:It is therefore senseless to think of complaining since nothing foreign has decided what we feel, what we live, or what we are. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness ,
570:There often beams in our eye that we know not of. Let us therefore ask that our eye may become single, for then we ourselves shall become wholly single. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
571:312. Each man of us has a million lives yet to fulfil upon this earth. Why then this haste and clamour and impatience? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine And Human Karma[53],
572:Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
573:The nature of art is to strive after a nobler beauty and more sustained perfection than life can give. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry Recent English Poetry - I,
574:There are greatnesses hidden in our unseen partsThat wait their hour to step into life’s front. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.02 - The Parable of the Search for the Soul,
575:These wide divine extremes, these inverse powersAre the right and left side of the body of God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
576:God, before He comes to the heart, sends servants to make it ready for His coming. And who are those servants? Purity, chastity, humility, loving-kindness. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
577:Man’s soul crosses through thee to Paradise,Heaven’s sun forces its way through death and night. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
578:O Death, if thou couldst touch the Truth supremeThou wouldst grow suddenly wise and cease to be. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
579:The deities have screened their dreadful power:God hides his thought and, even, he seems to err. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
580:There is an intuition which serves the intellect and an intuition which serves the heart and the life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 3.05 - The Divine Personality,
581:Three are the words that sum up the first state of the Yoga of devotion, faith, worship, obedience. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine and Human Partial Systems of Yoga,
582:World-rhythmsThrough glimmering veils of wonder and delightWorld after world bursts on the awakened sight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.2.03 - The Other Earths,
583:A man cannot understand the art he is studying if he only looks for the end result without taking the time to delve deeply into the reasoning of the study. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
584:Standardization is one of the cornerstones of continuous improvement. The starting point for any improvement effort is knowing where the process stands now. ~ Ernst & Young,
585:The development of capacities is not only permissible but right, when it can be made part of the Yoga ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - II 1.2.09 - Consecration and Offering,
586:Three are the words that sum up the supreme state of the Yoga of devotion, love, ecstasy, surrender. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine and Human Partial Systems of Yoga,
587:As if in different worlds they walked, though close ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Joy of Union; the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the Heart’s Grief and Pain,
588:Ever we hear in the heart of the peril a flute go before us,Luminous beckoning hands in the distance invite and implore us. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
589:Mankind is apt to bind itself by attachment to the means of its past progress forgetful of the aim. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
590:Calm and apart supported all that is:His spirit’s stillness helped the toiling world. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
591:Strength in the spirit, wisdom in the mind,Love in the heart complete the trinityOf glorious manhood. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act III,
592:Study strategy over the years and achieve the spirit of the warrior. Today is victory over yourself of yesterday; tomorrow is your victory over lesser men. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
593:The divine Dwarf towered to unconquered worlds,Earth grew too narrow for his victory. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
594:The lotus-heart of loveWith all its thousand luminous buds of truth,Which quivering sleeps veiled by apparent things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.01 - The Word of Fate,
595:Unless mind is tamed within,Outer enemies will be inexhaustible.If you tame the anger within,All enemies on earth will be pacified. ~ Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye,
596:When Jesus Christ came upon the Earth, you killed Him. The son of your own God. And only after He was dead did you worship Him and start killing those who would not. ~ Tecumseh,
597:While thou livest, perfectly fulfilThy part, conceiveEarth as thy stage, thyself the actor strong,The drama His. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
598:[...] for doubt itself is an attribute of Saturn (Satan). Those who are not striving for the highest, partake of the lowest. ~ Manly P Hall, Magic: A Treatise on Esoteric Ethics ,
599:God has set apart India as the eternal fountain-head of holy spirituality, and He will never suffer that fountain to run dry. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Bande Mataram - II Swaraj,
600:Have faith and complete trust in the ways of God. relentless prayers offered with a pure and devoted heart have the power to make the impossible possible. ~ Swami Avdheshanand,
601:Your unfulfilled desires bring you back. You must conquer desire to be absorbed into the One and thus end rebirth. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi, Here lies the Heart Mercedes de Acosta,
602:For us, these five poets formed an alchemist mandala: Neruda was water, Parra air, de Rokha fire, Mistral earth, and Huidobro, in the center, quintessence. ~ Alejandro Jodorowsky,
603:The expression of the spiritual through the aesthetic sense is the constant sense of Indian art. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry The Soul of Poetic Delight and Beauty,
604:To Develop a Mind:Study the science of art;Study the art of science.Learn how to see.Realize that everything connects to everything else." - Leonardo da Vinci, ~ To Develop a Mind:
Study the science of art;
Study the art of science.
Learn how to see.
Realize that everything connects
to everything else." - Leonardo da Vinci
605:Two contraries needed for his great World-task,Two poles whose currents wake the immense World-Force. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
606:Aberrations of the human mind are to a large extent due to the obsessional pursuit of some part-truth, treated as if it were a whole truth. ~ Arthur Koestler, Ghost in the Machine ,
607:Bhakti and the heart’s call for the Divine have a truth—it is the truth of the divine Love and Ananda. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - II The Adwaita of Shankaracharya,
608:None is for any on this transient globe.He whom thou lovest now, a stranger cameAnd into a far strangeness shall depart: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.01 - The Word of Fate,
609:Silent the great hillsRise ceaselessly towards their unreached sky,Seated on their unchanging base ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
610:The snake is there and the worm in the heart of the rose.A word, a moment’s act can slay the god; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
611:By whatever path you go, you will have to lose yourself in the one. Surrender is complete only when you reach the stage `Thou art all' and `Thy will be done'. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi,
612:How wonderful ::: How wonderful, that Her heart Should show me kindness; And of all the numberless folk, Grief should not touch me. ~ Saigyo,
613:Near and real to the longing heart And to the body’s passionate thought and sense Are the hidden kingdoms of beatitude. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Glory and Fall of Life,
614:No matter if the enemy has thousands of men, there is fulfillment in simply standing them off and being determined to cut them all down, starting from one end. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
615:Nothing would confess its own pretenceEven to itself in the ambiguous heart:A vast deception was the law of things; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.07 - The Descent into Night,
616:She puts forth a small portion of herself,A being no bigger than the thumb of manInto a hidden region of the heart ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.05 - The Finding of the Soul,
617:Three are the words that sum up the second state of the Yoga of devotion, adoration, delight, self-giving. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine and Human Partial Systems of Yoga,
618:All that transpires on earth and all beyondAre parts of an illimitable planThe One keeps in his heart and knows alone. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
619:An artist Sight constructed the BeyondIn contrary patterns and conflicting hues;A part-experience fragmented the Whole. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.13 - In the Self of Mind,
620:A person of wisdom is not one who practices Buddhism apart from worldly affairs but, rather, one who thoroughly understands the principles by which the world is governed. ~ Nichiren,
621:Contemplate that all things are impermanent and that nothing belongs to you... Understand that all things that come together must also come apart. ~ The Sutra of the Elder Sumagadha,
622:Eternal Presence [facsimile] Sri Aurobindo is constantly among us and reveals himself to those who are ready to see and hear him. 1wordlist AUTHORS BOOKS-INFO cats CHEATSHEETS COMMANDS d20 dc-empty define-1355 DICTIONARIES DICTIONARIES-2020-03-23 DOCS.RACKET DOCS.RACKET_W_LINKS goodreads_books_data goodreads_books_data-raw GRAMMER keys keys_2020-03-29 keys_2020-06-04 keys_2020-06-05 keys_2020-06-27 keys-2020-08-14 keys-2020-10-13 keys.bak-2020-02-11 keys-bak-2020-09-14 LISTS MEDIA_LISTS MEM_AUDIO_199 most new_keys_subject_tagged new_keys_subject_tagged.php_tagged new_keys_subject_tagged_r NEWLIB PARTIAL_FORMATTED plants PROGRAMS QUOTES RESUMES sedrnS19w sss_7418_2019-12-18 style.css subjects subjects_wo_periods syn syn1 synonyms temp temp1 temp_11 test5 todo twitter_full_s TWITTER-RIPS VG WEB_ADDRESSES WIKI wordincarnate_SA_4500 wordincarnate_SA_clean wordincarnate_SA_clean2 WORDLIST wordlist wordlist (3rd copy) wordlist (another copy) wordlist-broken maybe wordlist-config wordlist (copy) wordlist-ru wordlist-temp wordlist-u ZZ ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother I ,
623:I am as sure as I live that nothing is so near to me as God. God is nearer to me than I am to myself; my existence depends on the nearness and the presence of God. ~ Meister Eckhart,
624:... I am now able to put myself into men and change them, removing the darkness and bringing light, giving them a new heart and a new mind. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Autobiographical Notes ,
625:In our defeated hearts God’s strength survivesAnd victory’s star still lights our desperate road; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.06 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Life,
626:Sometimes one life is charged with earth’s destiny,It cries not for succour from the time-bound powers. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
627:The consciousness is there throughout in our occult parts of being, the development is in the manifesting Nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 2.20 - The Philosophy of Rebirth,
628:The infinite variety of particular objects constitutes one sole and identical Being. To know that unity is the aim of all philosophy and of all knowledge of Nature. ~ Giordano Bruno,
629:Thy heart that needsSome human answering heart against thy breast;For who, being mortal, can dwell glad alone? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
630:When the reward is withheld and endlessly lengthens the labour,Weary of fruitless toil grows the transient heart of the mortal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry 5.1.01 - Ilion,
631:A tireless benevolence, clear-seeing and comprehensive, free from all personal reaction, is the best way to love God and serve Him upon earth. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
632:Only of one thingMan can be sure, the will in his heart and his strength in his purpose:This too is Fate and this too the gods ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
633:The sense of pleasure and delight in the emotional aspects of life and action, this is the poetry of life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
634:And the memories of all we have loved stay and come back to us in the evening of our life. They are not dead but sleep, and it is well to gather a treasure of them. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
635:But the most important thing for purification of the heart is an absolute sincerity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - III The Danger of the Ego and the Need of Purification,
636:[Doubt] delivers us from all sorts of prejudices and makes available to us an easy method of accustoming our minds to become independent of the senses. ~ Rene Descartes, 1950 p. 21,
637:Earth has beatitudes warmer than heaven’s that are bare and undying,Marvels of Time on the crest of the moments to Infinity flying. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
638:Systems thinking shows us that there is no outside; that you and the cause of your problems are part of a single system. The cure lies in your relationship with your 'enemy' ~ Senge,
639:It is the vital passion for the Divine that creates the spiritual heroes, conquerors or martyrs. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - II Revelations of Divine Love,
640:Knowledge dwells not in the passionate heart;The heart’s words fall back unheard from Wisdom’s throne. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
641:Life in my limbs shall grow deathless, flesh with the God-glory tingle,Lustre of Paradise, light of the earth-ways marry and mingle. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
642:Immersed in voiceless internatal tranceThe beings that once wore forms on earth sat thereIn shining chambers of spiritual sleep. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.14 - The World-Soul,
643:Dear are the halls of our childhood, dear are the fields of our fathers,Yet to the soul that is free no spot on the earth is an exile. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
644:Met the hounds of bale who hunt men’s heartsBaying across the veldts of Destiny, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The World of Falsehood,
645:The incarnate dual Power shall open God’s door,Eternal supermind touch earthly Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
646:The incarnate dual Power shall open God’s door,Eternal supermind touch earthly Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
647:This is the nature of earth that to blows she responds and by scourgingsTravails excited; pain is the bed of her blossoms of pleasure. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
648:This is the power of Mahalakshmi and there is no aspect of the Divine Shakti more attractive to the heart of the embodied beings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Mother With Letters On The Mother ,
649:You think you know when you learn, are more sure when you can write, even more when you can teach, but certain when you can program. ~ Alan Perlis, Paradigms of Artificial Intelligence ,
650:A new kind of poetry demands a new mentality in the recipient as well as in the writer. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
651:He wanted to close his eyes and shut out the pearly nothingness that surrounded him, but that was an act of a coward and he would not yield to it. ~ Arthur C Clarke, Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
653:One is there only, apart in his greatness, the End and Beginning,—He who has sent through his soul’s wide spaces the universe spinning. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
654:Progress is the very heart of the significance of human life, for it means our evolution into greater and richer being. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays in Philosophy and Yoga Materialism,
655:Sometimes, when our sight is turned within,Earth’s ignorant veil is lifted from our eyes;There is a short miraculous escape. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
656:The attempt to express in form and limit something of that which is formless and illimitable is the attempt of Indian art. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin The Awakening Soul of India,
657:Turn not thy head from this path till thou art led to its end; keep ever near to this door till it is opened. Let not thy eyes be shut; seek well and thou shalt find. ~ Farid-ud-diu-attar,
658:In bodies motionless like statues, fixedIn tranced cessations of their sleepless thoughtSat sleeping souls. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
659:The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God's eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one love. ~ Meister Eckhart, Sermons of Meister Eckhart ,
660:The philosopher's soul dwells in his head, the poet's soul is in his heart; the singer's soul lingers about his throat, but the soul of the dancer abides in all her body. ~ Khalil Gibran,
661:Without perfect love there cannot be perfect beauty, and without perfect beauty there cannot be perfect delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
662:A man can be himself only so long as he is alone, and if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom, for it is only when he is alone that he is really free. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
663:As those who have lived long made one in loveNeed word nor sign for heart’s reply to heart,He met and communed without bar of speech ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.14 - The World-Soul,
664:A strange pell-mell of magic artisans,Was seen moulding the plastic clay of life,An elfin brood, an elemental kind. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
665:in her spaceless self released from boundsUnnumbered years seemed moments long drawn out,The brilliant time-flakes of eternity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 12.01 - The Return to Earth,
666:In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
667:The Divine looks into the heart and removes the veil at the moment which he knows to be the right moment to do it. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - II Bhakti Yoga and Vaishnavism,
668:A Christian is: a mind through which Christ thinks, a heart through which Christ loves, a voice through which Christ speaks, and a hand through which Christ helps. ~ Saint Augustine of Hippo,
669:Life, the river of the Spirit, consenting to anguish and sorrowIf by her heart’s toil a loan-light of joy from the heavens she can borrow. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
670:That which has helped man upward, must be preserved in order that he may not sink below the level he has attained. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
671:All things here secretly are right; all’s wrongIn God’s appearances. World, thou art wisely ledIn a divine confusion. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act II,
672:An ocean of electric EnergyFormlessly formed its strange wave-particlesConstructing by their dance this solid scheme, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
673:At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want. ~ M J Ryan, A Grateful Heart: Daily Blessings for the Evening Meal from Buddha to the Beatles ,
674:Desire is at once the motive of our actions, our lever of accomplishment and the bane of our existence. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind,
675:Fame and power are the objects of all men. Even their partial fruition is gained by very few; and that, too, at the expense of social pleasure, health, conscience, life. ~ Benjamin Disraeli,
676:God's DesireLo, how all shakes when the gods tread too near!All moves, is in peril, anguished, torn, upheaved. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
677:Her patient paleness wore a pensive glowLike evening’s subdued gaze of gathered lightDeparting, which foresees sunrise her child. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 12.01 - The Return to Earth,
678:I couldn't live a week without a private library - indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess. ~ H P Lovecraft,
679:The ego is in fact driven by the mechanism of Nature of which it is a part and the ego-will is not and cannot be a free will. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.16 - The Divine Shakti,
680:What is Truth and who can find her formAmid the specious images of sense,Amid the crowding guesses of the mind ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
681:You are here to contact your soul, and that is why you live. Aspire persistently and try to silence your mind. The aspiration must come from the heart. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
682:Your profession is not what brings home your paycheck. Your profession is what you were put on earth to do. With such passion and such intensity that it becomes spiritual in calling. ~ Virgil,
683:Even when we fail to look into our soulsOr lie embedded in earthly consciousness,Still have we parts that grow towards the light, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
684:If you are never parted from the aspiring resolve to attain awak- ening, wherever you are born-whether above, below, or on the same level-you will not forget the thought of awakening. ~ Asanga,
685:I have been pity, leaning over painAnd the tender smile that heals the wounded heartAnd sympathy making life less hard to bear. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.04 - The Triple Soul-Forces,
686:I have been pity, leaning over painAnd the tender smile that heals the wounded heartAnd sympathy making life less hard to bear. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.04 - The Triple Soul-Forces,
687:Life that pursuing her boundless march to a goal which we know not,Ever her own law obeys, not our hopes, who are slaves of her heart-beats. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
688:Only religion in this bankruptcyPresents its dubious riches to our heartsOr signs unprovisioned cheques on the Beyond: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
689:Then from the heights a greater Voice came down,The Word that touches the heart and finds the soul, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.06 - Nirvana and the Discovery of the All-Negating Absolute,
690:Easy is the love that lastsOnly with favours in the shopman heart!Who, smitten, takes and gives the kiss, he loves. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
691:Heaven in its rapture dreams of perfect earth,Earth in its sorrow dreams of perfect heaven. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
692:I have never heard of a Yogin who got the peace of God and turned away from it as something poor, neutral and pallid, rushing back to cakes and ale. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Poetry And Art ,
693:Impersonality belongs to the intellectual mind and the static self, personality to the soul and heart and dynamic being. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - I 1.1.01 - The Divine and Its Aspects,
694:It is at some one point or a few points that the fire is lit and spreads from hearth to hearth, from altar to altar. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 2.24 - The Evolution of the Spiritual Man,
695:O to spread forth, O to encircle and seizeMore hearts till love in us has filled thy world! ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
696:Second is the way of the merchant. The wine maker obtains his ingredients and puts them to use to make his living. The way of the merchant is always to live by taking profit. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
697:The doors of light are sealed to common mindAnd earth’s needs nail to earth the human mass, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
698:This grey hour was bornFor the ascetic in his silent caveAnd for the dying man whose heart releasedLoosens its vibrant strings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Chitrangada,
699:Bad critics judge a work of art by comparing it to pre-existing theories. They always go wrong when confronted with a masterpiece because masterpieces make their own rules. ~ Robert Anton Wilson,
700:I am beset, too, by obsessively remembered thudding guilts and scalding shames. Small potatoes, as traumas go, but intensified by my aversion to facing them. ~ Peter Schjeldahl, The Art of Dying ,
701:Looking for the meaning of life, one man can discover the order of the universe. To discover the truth, to achieve. a higher spiritual state, that is the true meaning of ninja. ~ Masaaki Hatsumi,
702:Practice is the act of rehearsing a behavior over and over, or engaging in an activity again and again, for the purpose of improving or mastering it, as in the phrase practice makes perfect. ~ ,
703:Silence, the nurse of the Almighty’s power,The omnipotent hush, womb of the immortal Word. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
704:As individual egos we dwell in the Ignorance and judge everything by a broken, partial and personal standard of knowledge; ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.15 - The Cosmic Consciousness,
705:As individual egos we dwell in the Ignorance and judge everything by a broken, partial and personal standard of knowledge; ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.15 - The Cosmic Consciousness,
706:Intense philosophies pointed earth to heavenOr on foundations broad as cosmic SpaceUpraised the earth-mind to superhuman heights. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.02 - The Growth of the Flame,
707:Man lives on earth not once, but three times: the first stage of life is continual sleep; the second, sleeping and waking by turns; the third, waking forever. ~ Gustav Fechner, Life after Death ,
708:O Sun-Word, thou shalt raise the earth-soul to LightAnd bring down God into the lives of men; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
709:The crown of conscious Immortality,The godhead promised to our struggling soulsWhen first man’s heart dared death and suffered life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
710:As you start to see your own potential, you will also begin to recognize it in every being around you. Buddha nature is not a special quality available to just a privileged few. ~ Mingyur Rinpoche,
711:Each part of man’s being has its own dharma which it must follow and will follow in the end, put on it what fetters you please. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle The Spiritual Aim and Life,
712:The higher mind is a thing in itself above the intellect. It is only when something of its power comes down and is modified in the lower mind substance that it acts as part of the intellect. ~ ,
713:A lonely soul passions for the Alone,The heart that loved man thrills to the love of God,A body is his chamber and his shrine. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
714:Even God himself obeys the Laws he made:The Law abides and never can it change,The Person is a bubble on Time’s sea. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
715:Externally keep yourself away from all relationships, and internally have no pantings in your heart; when your mind is like unto a straight-standing wall, you may enter into the Path. ~ Bodhidharma,
716:He shore the cord of mind that ties the earth-heartAnd cast away the yoke of Matter’s law. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
717:One forward step is something gained,Since little by little earth must open to heavenTill her dim soul awakes into the Light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act V,
718:One forward step is something gained,Since little by little earth must open to heavenTill her dim soul awakes into the Light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act V,
719:Pain is the hammer of the Gods to breakA dead resistance in the mortal’s heart,His slow inertia as of living stone. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
720:...the German language associates "origin" with suddenness and discontinuity with respect to primordial events, whereas temporal inceptions are designated as "starts" or "beginnings". ~ Jean Gebser,
721:All in outer mindIs made, not born, a product perishable,Forged in the body’s factory by earth-force. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.06 - Nirvana and the Discovery of the All-Negating Absolute,
722:He who would bring the heavens hereMust descend himself into clayAnd the burden of earthly nature bearAnd tread the dolorous way. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A God’s Labour,
723:Know me as the true essence of jnana that shines uninterruptedly in your Heart.Destroy the objectifying awareness of the ego-mind that arrogantly cavorts as 'I'. ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi, Padamalai ,
724:Q : How can I meditate? What is meant by opening? Where should I open?The Mother,: An inner purity and receptivity that freely lets in the Mother's influence. Begin with the heart. ~ The Mother,
725:Since the beginning of earth history, Sri Aurobindo has always presided over the great earthly transformations, under one form or another, one name or another. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother I ,
726:The gleaming stars all about the shining moonHide their bright faces, when full-orbed and splendidIn the sky she floats, flooding the shadowed earth with clear silver light. ~ Sappho,
727:The kingdom of the animal self arose,Where deed is all and mind is still half-bornAnd the heart obeys a dumb unseen control. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
728:Hidden behind the fair outsides of life.Its dangerous commerce is our suffering’s cause.Its breath is a subtle poison in men’s hearts; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.07 - The Descent into Night,
729:If one but tell a thing well, it moves on with undying voice, and over the fruitful earth and across the sea goes the bright gleam of noble deeds ever unquenchable. ~ Pindar, Isthmian Odes Letters On Yoga IV,
730:If one has no earnest daily intention, does not consider what it is to be a warrior even in his dreams, and lives through the day idly, he can be said to be worthy of punishment. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
731:Integral reality is the world’s transparency, a perceiving of the world as truth: a mutual perceiving and imparting of the truth of the world and of man and of all that transluces both. ~ Jean Gebser,
732:It is very often when one thinks a particular resistance is finished and is no longer in the vital that it surges up again. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV Wrong Movements of the Vital,
733:Music brought down celestial yearnings, songHeld the merged heart absorbed in rapturous depths,Linking the human with the cosmic cry. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.02 - The Growth of the Flame,
734:Out of suffering comes the serious mind; out of salvation, the grateful heart; out of endurance, fortitude; out of deliverance faith. Patient endurance attends to all things. ~ Saint Teresa of Avila,
735:A tree beside the sandy river-beachHolds up its topmost boughsLike fingers towards the skies they cannot reach,Earth-bound, heaven-amorous. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.07 - A Tree,
736:Falsehood enthroned on awed and prostrate heartsThe cults and creeds that organise living deathAnd slay the soul on the altar of a lie. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.07 - The Descent into Night,
737:I aspire for the higher life from above the head; but I always feel strained in the middle part of the forehead. What should I do? Do not strain yourself. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
738:Since God has made earth, earth must make in her God;What hides within her breast she must reveal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
739:These revolutions, demon or drunken god,Convulsing the wounded body of mankindOnly to paint in new colours an old face; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
740:To get the universal Ananda all our instruments must learn to take not any partial or perverse, but the essential joy of all things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.12 - The Way of Equality,
741:A touch supreme surprised his hurrying heart,The clasp was remembered of the Wonderful,And hints leaped down of white beatitudes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.09 - The Paradise of the Life-Gods,
742:Beyond the earth, but meant for delivered earth,Wisdom and joy prepare their perfect crown;Truth superhuman calls to thinking man. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
743:Is not the world his disguise? when that cloak is tossed back from his shoulders,Beauty looks out like a sun on the hearts of the ravished beholders. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
744:Material existence and earthly activities are not the whole scope of our personal becoming or the whole formula of the cosmos. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works,
745:Stories lie deep in our souls. Stories lie so deep at the bottom of our hearts that they can bring people together on the deepest level. When I write a novel, I go into such depths. ~ Haruki Murakami,
746:The universal particularises itself in the individual; the individual contains in himself all the generalities of the universal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 2.03 - The Eternal and the Individual,
747:The whole life is a sadhana. It is a mistake to cut it into bits and say this is sadhana and that is not. Even your eating and sleeping should be a part of sadhana. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
748:Thou art his spur to greatness in his works,The whip to his yearning for eternal bliss,His poignant need of immortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
749:Vain the soul’s hope if changeless Law is all:Ever to the new and the unknown press onThe speeding aeons justifying God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
750:283. Death is sometimes a rude valet; but when he changes this robe of earth for that brighter raiment, his horseplay and impertinences can be pardoned. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine And Human 3.1.10 - Karma,
751:A gift of priceless value from Time’s godsLost or mislaid in an uncaring world,Life is a marvel missed, an art gone wry. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
752:A solid image of realityCarved out of being to prop the works of Time,Matter on the firm earth sits strong and sure. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
753:Hunger in the vital parts becomes craving of Desire in the mentalised life, straining of Will in the intellectual or thinking life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 3.04 - The Spirit in Spirit-Land after Death,
754:So what should I do when an unconverted part rises to the surface? Put the light and the knowledge on it patiently until it gets converted. 29 May 1934 ~ The Mother, More Answers From The Mother ,
755:Those who wish to attain God and progress in religious devotion, should particularly guard themselves against the snares of lust and wealth. Otherwise they can never attain perfection. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
756:All here gathers beneath one golden sky:The Powers that build the cosmos station takeIn its house of infinite possibility; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
757:Ever since consciousness was born on earth,Life is the same in insect, ape and man,Its stuff unchanged, its way the common route. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
758:God is very merciful to those whom He sees struggling heart and soul for spiritual realization. But remain idle, without any struggle, and you will see that His grace will never come. ~ Swami Vivekananda,
759:Her deepest grief from sweetest gulfs arose.Remembrance was a poignant pang ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Joy of Union; the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the Heart’s Grief and Pain,
760:Hunger that gnawest at the universeConsuming the cold remnants of the sunsAnd eatst the whole world with thy jaws of fire. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
761:In a supreme golden sheath the Brahman lies, stainless, without parts. A Splendour is That, It is the Light of Lights, It is That which the self-knowers know. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Kena And Other Upanishads ,
762:The heart’s faith and will in good are founded on a perception of the one Divine immanent in all things and leading the world. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.14 - The Power of the Instruments,
763:The weakness of the human heart wants only fair and comforting truths or in their absence pleasant fables. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita 2.10 - The Vision of the World-Spirit - Time the Destroyer,
764:Wilt thou not perfect this rather that sprang too from Wisdom and Power?Taking the earthly rose canst thou image not Heaven in a flower? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
765:A formless void suppressed his struggling brain,A darkness grim and cold oppressed his flesh,A whispered grey suggestion chilled his heart; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.07 - The Descent into Night,
766:Earth lies unchanged beneath the circling sun;She loves her fall and no omnipotenceHer mortal imperfections can erase. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
767:Realistic art does not and cannot give us a scientifically accurate presentation of life, because Art is not and cannot be Science. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry Poetic Vision and the Mantra,
768:Since the initial publication of the chart of the electromagnetic spectrum, humans have learned that what they can touch, smell, see, and hear is less than one-millionth of reality. ~ R Buckminster Fuller,
769:What earth is thisso in want of youthey rise up on highto seek you in heaven?Look at them staringat youright before their eyes,unseeing, unseeing, blind. ~ Mansur al-Hallaj,
770:All pursuit of knowledge, if not vitiated by a too earthward tendency, tends to refine, to subtilise, to purify the being. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.25 - The Higher and the Lower Knowledge,
771:An errant ray from the immortal MindAccepted the earth’s blindness and becameOur human thought, servant of Ignorance. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.11 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Mind,
772:How to remember the Mother during work? One starts by a mental effort - afterwards it is an inner consciousness that is formed... it is always conscious of her. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Correspondences 2020-08-17,
773:Sin consists not at all in the outward deed, but in an impure reaction of the personal will, mind and heart which accompanies it or causes it. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita 1.18 - The Divine Worker,
774:Then stretches the boundless finite’s last expanse,The cosmic empire of the Overmind,Time’s buffer state bordering Eternity, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
775:Whatever the brain may plan, the heart knows first and whoever can go beyond the brain to the heart, will hear the voice of the Eternal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Bande Mataram - II The Glory of God in Man,
776:A world of lovelier forms lies near to ours,Where, undisguised by earth’s deforming sight,All shapes are beautiful and all things true. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.02 - The Kingdom of Subtle Matter,
777:My mind is awake in stirless trance,Hushed my heart, a burden of delight;Dispelled is the senses’ flicker-dance,Mute the body aureate with light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Trance,
778:Night was a chrysoprase on velvet cloth,A nestling darkness or a moonlit deep; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Joy of Union; the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the Heart’s Grief and Pain,
779:A channel of universal harmony,Hearing was a stream of magic audience,A bed for occult sounds earth cannot hear. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
780:Forms on earth do not last (they do in other planes) because these forms are too rigid to grow expressing the progress of the spirit. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - I Transformation and the Body,
781:Our souls accept what our blind thoughts refuse.Earth’s winged chimaeras are Truth’s steeds in Heaven,The impossible God’s sign of things to be. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
782:Thou shalt invest thyself with her as with a raiment of glory and thou shalt put her on thy head as a crown of joy. Say unto wisdom, ... "Thou art my sister", and call understanding thy kinswoman. ~ Proverbs,
783:Creation and destruction waltzed inarmedOn the bosom of a torn and quaking earth;All reeled into a world of Kali’s dance. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
784:...if a man can be properly said to love something, it must be clear that he feels affection for it as a whole, and does not love part of it to the exclusion of the rest. ~ Plato, The Republic and Other Works ,
785:In the exact Inconscient’s stark conceit,In the casual error of the world’s ignoranceA plan, a hidden Intelligence is glimpsed. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
786:Oh! let all tears be wiped away, all suffering relieved, all anguish dispelled, and let calm serenity dwell in every heart and powerful certitude strengthen every mind. ~ The Mother, Prayers And Meditations ,
787:Our souls and heaven are of an equal statureAnd have a dateless birth;The unending seed, the infinite mould of Nature,They were not made on earth, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.15 - Rebirth,
788:Summer is dead and rich reposeAnd springtide and the rose,And woods and all sweet things make moan;The weeping earth is turned to stone. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
789:There is nothing outside of yourself that can ever enable you to get better, stronger, richer, quicker or smarter. Everything is within. Everything exists. Seek nothing outside of yourself. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
790:The faith of the heart and the life mind, like that of the intelligence, must be capable of a constant correction, enlarging and transformation. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga Faith and Shakti,
791:The godhead of the reason, the intellectual Logos, is only a partial representative and substitute for the greater supramental Logos. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga The Nature of the Supermind,
792:The harmony of the world is made manifest in form and number, and the heart and soul and all the poetry of natural philosophy are embodied in the concept of mathematical beauty. ~ Sir D'Arcy Wentworth Thompson,
793:True knowledge takes its base on things, arthas, and only when it has mastered the thing, proceeds to formalise its information. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings A System of National Education,
794:All that we seek for is prefigured thereAnd all we have not known nor ever soughtWhich yet one day must be born in human heartsThat the Timeless may fulfil itself in things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri ,
795:How can I meditate? What is meant by opening? Where should I open? An inner purity and receptivity that freely lets in the Mother's influence. Begin with the heart. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
796:If the chamber’s door is even a little ajar,What then can hinder God from stealing inOr who forbid his kiss on the sleeping soul? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
797:Knowledge sets us free, art sets us free. A great library is freedom...and that freedom must not be compromised. It must be available to all who need it, when they need it, and that's always. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
798:So can we conclude that Divine Grace works best when it is established in the earth consciousness? Is it the aim of your endeavour to establish it permanently? Yes. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
799:Still, still we can hear themNow, if we listen long in our souls, the bygone voices.Earth in her fibres remembers, the breezes are stored with our echoes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
800:The will of man works in the ignorance by a partial light or more often flickerings of light which mislead as much as they illuminate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga The Nature of the Supermind,
801:They say the anarchy of love disturbsGods even: shaken are the marble natures,The deathless hearts are melted to the pangAnd rapture. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
802:1FOR GOD alone my soul waits in silence; From Him comes my salvation. 2He alone is my rock and my salvation, My defense and my strong tower; I will not be shaken or disheartened. ~ Anonymous, The Bible Psalm 62,
803:An idea,Each deemed Truth’s intimate fount and summit force,The heart of the meaning of the universe,Perfection’s key, passport to Paradise. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.12 - The Heavens of the Ideal,
804:Easy the heavens were to build for God.Earth was his difficult matter, earth the gloryGave of the problem and the race and strife. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
805:There is a purpose in each stumble and fall;Nature’s most careless lolling is a posePreparing some forward step, some deep result. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
806:Truth Resides in Every Human Heart and One has to Search for it and to be Guided by Truth as One Sees it. But No One has the right to Coerce Others to Act according to their Own View of Truth. ~ Mahatma Gandhi,
807:We must never forget that we are here to serve the Supramental Truth and Light and to prepare its manifestation in ourselves and upon the earth. With my Blessings. ~ The Mother, Mantras Of The Mother Aug 13th,
808:A Truth supreme has forced the world to be;It has wrapped itself in Matter as in a shroud,A shroud of Death, a shroud of Ignorance. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
809:In packets she ties up the Indivisible;Finding her hands too small to hold vast TruthShe breaks up knowledge into alien parts ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
810:Light in the world- World in the mind- Mind in the heart- Heart in the night. Pain in the day- Strength in the pain- Light in the strength- World in the light. ~ Owen Barfield, A Meditation 1970,
811:Therefore is the woman’s partNearest divine, who to one motion keepsAnd like the fixed immortal planets’ roundIs constant to herself in him she loves. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Uloupie,
812:This sole is real in apparent things,Even upon earth the spirit is life’s key,But her solid outsides nowhere bear its trace. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.06 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Life,
813:Already God is near, the Truth is close:Because the dark atheist body knows him not,Must the sage deny the Light, the seer his soul? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
814:Can 'calm' give a solution to all problems? Yes, but for this the calm must be perfect, in all the parts of the being, so that the power may express itself through it. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
815:Day was a purple pageant and a hymn,A wave of the laughter of light from morn to eve. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Joy of Union; the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the Heart’s Grief and Pain,
816:Love with my love, think with my thoughts; the restLeave to much older wiser men whose schemingsHave made God’s world an office and a mart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act II,
817:Mind is Nature’s marriage of convenanceBetween truth and falsehood, between joy and pain:This struggling pair no court can separate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
818:No one can become really educated without having pursued some study in which he took no interest--for it is a part of education to learn to interest ourselves in subjects for which we have no aptitude. ~ T S Eliot,
819:the troubled stream where leaps a blind heart-pulseAnd the nerve-beat of feeling wakes in senseDividing Matter’s sleep from conscious Mind, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
820:A perfection of the body as the outer instrument of a complete divine living on earth will be necessarily a part of the gnostic conversion. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.10 - The Elements of Perfection,
821:Form in its heart of silence recondite    Hides the significance of His mystery,    Form is the wonder-house of eternity,A cavern of the deathless Eremite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.65 - Form,
822:If we had a truly living faith, an absolute certitude of the almighty power of the Divine, His manifestation could be so evident that the whole earth would be transformed by it. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
823:In his fragile tenement he grows Nature’s lord.In him Matter wakes from its long obscure trance,In him earth feels the Godhead drawing near. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.04 - The Kingdoms of the Little Life,
824:The seed of Godhead sleeps in mortal hearts,The flower of Godhead grows on the world-tree:All shall discover God in self and things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
825:After all these years, I am still involved in the process of self-discovery. It's better to explore life and make mistakes than to play it safe. Mistakes are part of the dues one pays for a full life. ~ Sophia Loren,
826:Angels transcend every religion, every philosophy, every creed. In fact Angels have no religion as we know it... Their existence precedes every religious system that has ever existed on Earth. ~ Saint Thomas Aquinas,
827:Ethics deals only with the desire-soul and the active outward dynamical part of our being; its field is confined to character and action. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.05 - The Instruments of the Spirit,
828:He who learns must suffer. Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forgetfalls drop by drop upon the heartuntil, in our own despair, against our will,comes wisdom through the awful grace of God. ~ Aeschylus,
829:I am so angry with myself because I cannot do what I should like to do, and at such a moment one feels as if one were lying bound hand and foot at the bottom of a deep dark well, utterly helpless. ~ Vincent van Gogh,
830:I know that knowledge is a vast embrace:I know that every being is myself,In every heart is hidden the myriad One. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 09.02 - The Journey in Eternal Night and the Voice of the Darkness,
831:I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten - happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another. ~ Brenda Ueland,
832:Remember that there is meaning beyond absurdity. Know that every deed counts, that every word is power...Above all, remember that you must build your life as if it were a work of art. ~ Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel,
833:Spirituality is a single word expressive of three lines of human aspiration towards divine knowledge, divine love and joy, divine strength. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
834:The youth gets together his materials to build a bridge to the moon, or, perchance, a palace or temple on the earth, and, at length, the middle-aged man concludes to build a woodshed with them. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
835:A bullock yoked in the cart of proven fact,She drags huge knowledge-bales through Matter’s dustTo reach utility’s immense bazaar. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
836:A still heart, a clear mind and untroubled nerves are the very first necessity for the perfection of our Yoga. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Autobiographical Notes and Other Writings of Historical Interest To Motilal Roy,
837:He who seeks God with a longing heart can see Him, talk to Him as I am talking to you. Believe my words when I say that God can be seen. But ah! To whom am I saying these words? Who will believe me? ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
838:It is necessary that the Holy Spirit enter our heart. Everything good that we do, that we do for Christ, is given to us by the Holy Spirit, but prayer most of all, which is always available to us. ~ Seraphim of Sarov,
839:Well is the unconscious rule for the animal breedsContent to live beneath the immutable yoke;Man turns to a nobler walk, a master path. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
840:Aspire for your will to be one with the Divine will, concentrate in the heart and be plastic to whatever experience comes, neither forcing nor resisting any spiritual experience ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Yoga - I ,
841:Create your vision, then systematically follow it. There are no guarantees of success. There is only the assurance that if you do nothing, you will accomplish nothing. . . . Where do you want to start? ~ Forsha (31),
842:Do not sleep under a roof. Carry no money or food. Go alone to places frightening to the common brand of men. Become a criminal of purpose. Be put in jail, and extricate yourself by your own wisdom. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
843:He too is a machine amid machines;A piston brain pumps out the shapes of thought,A beating heart cuts out emotion’s modes;An insentient energy fabricates a soul. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.02 - The Issue,
844:When one comes out of the world, the forces that govern the world do all they can to pull you back into their own unquiet movement. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Himself and the Ashram Departure from the Ashram,
845:Agni in the form of an aspiration full of concentrated calm and surrender is certainly the first thing to be lighted in the heart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - III Experiences Associated with the Psychic,
846:A State religion is an artificial monstrosity, although a national religion may well be a living reality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle The Drive towards Legislative and Social Centralisation and Uniformity,
847:Because the sun of knowledge, the chaser of darkness has risen, the Atman shines in the expanse of the Heart as the omnipresent sustainer of all and illumines all. - Adi Sankara ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi, Atma Bodha 67,
848:... with the heart concentrated by yoga, viewing all things with equal regard, beholds himself in all beings and all beings in himself. In whatever way he leads his life, that one lives in God. ~ Bhagavad Gita, 29.php">.php">29 2020-08-31,
849:261. Perceive always and act in the light of thy increasing perceptions, but not those of the reasoning brain only. God speaks to the heart when the brain cannot understand him. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine And Human ,
850:At times because of one man’s evil, ten thousand people suffer. So you kill that one man to let the tens of thousands live. Here, truly, the blade that deals death becomes the sword that saves lives. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
851:No real peace can be till the heart of man deserves peace; the law of Vishnu cannot prevail till the debt to Rudra is paid. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita 2.10 - The Vision of the World-Spirit - Time the Destroyer,
852:The kind of work that should be the main part of life is the kind of work you would want to do if you weren't being paid for it. It's work that comes out of your own internal needs, interests and concerns. ~ Noam Chomsky,
853:To music that can immortalise the mindAnd make the heart wide as infinityListened, and captured the inaudibleCadences that awake the occult ear. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.09 - The Paradise of the Life-Gods,
854:If he could leave his limits he would be safe:He sees but cannot mount to his greater heavens;Even winged, he sinks back to his native soil. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
855:Man becomes God, and all human activity reaches its highest and noblest when it succeeds in bringing body, heart and mind into touch with spirit. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
856:Matter is a formation of life that has no real existence apart from the informing universal spirit which gives it its energy and substance. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.03 - The Psychology of Self-Perfection,
857:My heart feels arid, sad and gloomy, Mother. Why don't you try to read something beautiful and interesting and turn your attention away from yourself? That is the best remedy. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
858:Not to borrow the strength of another, nor to rely on one's own strength; to cut off past and future thoughts, and not to live within the everyday mind... then the Great Way is right before your eyes. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
859:With artificial intelligence, we are summoning the demon. In all those stories where there's the guy with the pentagram and the holy water, it's like, yeah, he's sure he can control the demon. Didn't work out. ~ Elon Musk,
860:He who labors as he prays lifts his heart to God with his hands. Whenever you begin any good work you should first of all make a most pressing appeal to Christ our Lord to bring it to perfection. ~ Saint Benedict of Nursia,
861:If you find from your own experience that something is a fact and it contradicts what some authority has written down, then you must abandon the authority and base your reasoning on your own findings. ~ Leonardo da Vinci,
862:Wherefore let us consider how it behoveth us to be in the sight of God and the angels, and so let us take our part in the psalmody that mind and voice accord together. ~ Saint Benedict of Nursia, The Rule of Saint Benedict ,
863:I live on Earth at present, and I don't know what I am. I know that I am not a category. I am not a thing - a noun, I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process - an integral function of the universe. ~ R Buckminster Fuller,
864:The world creates itself invincibly;For its body is the body of the LordAnd in its heart stands Virat, King of Kings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
865:A few can climb to an unperishing sun,Or live on the edges of the mystic moonAnd channel to earth-mind the wizard ray. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
866:A fire of passion burned in spirit-depths,A constant touch of sweetness linked all hearts,The throb of one adoration’s single blissIn a rapt ether of undying love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.14 - The World-Soul,
867:And when no subject is given, is it enough to concentrate on your Presence in the heart-centre? Should we avoid a formulated prayer? Yes, concentration on the Presence is enough. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II ,
868:O Wisdom-Splendour, Mother of the universe, Creatrix, the Eternals artist Bride, Linger not long with thy transmuting hand. Pressed vainly on one golden bar of Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.04 - The Vision and the Boon,
869:This great perplexed and discontented world,This haunt of Ignorance, this home of Pain:There are pitched desire’s tents, grief’s headquarters. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
870:When, indeed, men speak of Beauty, they mean, precisely, not a quality, as is supposed, but an effect - they refer, in short, just to that intense and pure elevation of soul - not of intellect, or of heart. ~ Edgar Allan Poe,
871:Hewn, quartered on the scaffold as he falls,His crucified voice proclaims, ‘I, I am God;’‘Yes, all is God,’ peals back Heaven’s deathless call. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
872:Mind is a mediator divinity:Its powers can undo all Nature’s work:Mind can suspend or change earth’s concrete law. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
873:Once more in the land of the saints and sages will burn up the fire of the ancient Yoga and the hearts of her people will be lifted up into the neighbourhood of the Eternal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Bande Mataram - II Swaraj,
874:There are such hearts, Mymoona,As think so little of adoring love,They make it only a pedestal for pride,A whipping-stock for their vain tyrannies. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - I Act III,
875:A divinising stream possessed his veins,His body’s cells awoke to spirit sense,Each nerve became a burning thread of joy:Tissue and flesh partook beatitude. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 03.04 - The Vision and the Boon,
876:A sight withdrawn in the concentrated heartCould pierce behind the screen of Time’s resultsAnd the rigid cast and shape of visible things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.11 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Mind,
877:He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God. ~ Aeschylus, Agamemnon l. 177,
878:The cleansed and emptied cup is filled with the wine of divine love and delight and no longer with the sweet and bitter poison of passion. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.08 - The Release from the Heart and the Mind,
879:Thinking-mindThere throned on concentration’s native seatHe opens that third mysterious eye in man,The Unseen’s eye that looks at the unseen, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
880:266. There are three forms in which the command may come, the will and faith in thy nature, thy ideal on which heart and brain are agreed and the voice of Himself or His angels. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine And Human 3.1.10 - Karma,
881:[A] competent magician should have the ability to stand still at a bus stop with closed eyes and have the entire universe disappear apart from a single blazing visualised sigil or muttered spell. ~ Peter J Carroll, The Octavo ,
882:In the sealed hermetic heart, the happy core,Unmoved behind this outer shape of deathThe eternal Entity prepares withinIts matter of divine felicity, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
883:The pressure of understanding and will in the mind and the Godward emotional urge in the heart are the two first agents of Yoga. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - III The Danger of the Ego and the Need of Purification,
884:The saviour creeds that cannot save themselves,But perish in the strangling hands of the years,Discarded from man’s thought, proved false by Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
885:Wast thou not made in the shape of a woman? Sweetness and beautyMove like a song of the gods in thy limbs and to love is thy dutyGraved in thy heart as on tablets of fate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
886:Agreat part of our thoughts and feelings come into us from outside, from our fellow-men, both from individuals and from the collective mind of humanity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.19 - The Planes of Our Existence,
887:A Nature that denied the eternal TruthIn the vain braggart freedom of its thoughtHoped to abolish God and reign alone. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The World of Falsehood,
888:I am the Man of Sorrows, I am heWho is nailed on the wide cross of the universe;To enjoy my agony God built the earth,My passion he has made his drama’s theme. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.04 - The Triple Soul-Forces,
889:In booths of sin and night-repairs of viceStyled infamies of the body’s concupiscenceAnd sordid imaginations etched in flesh,Turned lust into a decorative art. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.07 - The Descent into Night,
890:The major part of the work done in the universe is accomplished without any interference of desire; it proceeds by the calm necessity and spontaneous law of Nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 1.12 - The Divine Work,
891:Heaven and Earth are only a talisman which conceals the Deity; without It they are but a vain name. Know then that the visible world and the invisible are God Himself. There is only He and all that is, is He. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,
892:It is a wretched thing that the young men of today are so contriving and so proud of their material posessions. Men with contriving hearts are lacking in duty. Lacking in duty, they will have no self-respect. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
893:When you learn a lesson, you have to repeat it till the physical mind gets hold of it—otherwise it does not become a part of consciousness. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - III Variations in the Intensity of Experience,
894:A calmness neared as of the approach of God,A light of musing trance lit soil and skyAnd an identity and ecstasyFilled meditation’s solitary heart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.01 - The Birth and Childhood of the Flame,
895:Broke into the cave where coiled World-Energy sleepsAnd smote the thousand-hooded serpent ForceThat blazing towered and clasped the World-Self above. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
896:The magnetic needle always points to the north, and hence it is that sailing vessel does not lose her direction. So long as the heart of man is directed towards God, he cannot be lost in the ocean of worldliness. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
897:There are three main parts to the actual practice of Guru Yoga: first there is the visualization, next the fervent prayer to the guru, and lastly the receiving of the four empowerments. ~ Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Guru Yoga ,
898:All my thoughts go towards Thee, all my acts are consecrated to Thee; Thy Presence is for me an absolute, immutable, invariable fact, and Thy Peace dwells constantly in my heart. ~ The Mother, Prayers And Meditations Nov 19th 1912,
899:Awake by your aspiration the psychic fire in the heart that burns steadily towards the Divine—that is the one way to liberate and fulfil the emotional nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - II Bhakti,
900:Awake by your aspiration the psychic fire in the heart that burns steadily towards the Divine—that is the one way to liberate and fulfil the emotional nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - II Bhakti,
901:For the most part our psychological account of others is only an account of the psychological impressions of them they produce in our own mentality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Future Poetry The Movement of Modern Literature - II,
902:Walled from ours are other hearts:For if life’s barriers twixt our souls were broken,Men would be free and one, earth paradiseAnd the gods live neglected. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Plays and Stories - II Act I,
903:You asked me what linguistics I find most pernicious. I started with "is". The "either/or" habit is very pernicious. It seems very pernicious to me, I mean. Two-valued situations are relatively rare, actually. ~ Robert Anton Wilson,
904:A life of intensities wide, immuneFloats behind the earth and her life-fret,A magic of realms mastered by spell and rune,Grandiose, blissful, coloured, increate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Life Heavens,
905:All is abolished but the mute Alone.    The mind from thought released, the heart from grief    Grow inexistent now beyond belief;There is no I, no Nature, known-unknown. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Nirvana,
906:And if it is a play of the All-Existence, then we may well consent to play out our part in it with grace and courage, well take delight in the game along with our divine Playmate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 2.05 - Renunciation,
907:A 'tulpa' is a consciously-projected thought-form or servitor, which may perform a particular task for a magician or act as a general 'helper'. They are of a similar nature to Spirit Desire-Forms. ~ Phil Hine, Aspects of Evocation ,
908:God must be born on earth and be as manThat man being human may grow even as God.He who would save the world must be one with the world ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.06 - Nirvana and the Discovery of the All-Negating Absolute,
909:God split himself into a myriad parts that he might have friends. This may not be true, but it sounds good, and is no sillier than any other theology. ~ Robert Heinlein, Notebooks of Lazarus Long from Time Enough for Love (1973).,
910:Still have we parts that grow towards the light,Yet are there luminous tracts and heavens serene And Eldorados of splendor and ecstacy And temples to the godhead none can see ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
911:This is the practical and active form of that obligation of a Master of the Temple in which it said:: 'I will interpret every phenomenon as a particular dealing of God with my soul.' ~ Aleister Crowley, Liber ABA Magick,
912:A specialist of logic’s hard machineImposed its rigid artifice on the soul;An aide of the inventor intellect,It cut Truth into manageable bits ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
913:It is said the warrior's is the twofold Way of pen and sword, and he should have a taste for both Ways. Even if a man has no natural ability he can be a warrior by sticking assiduously to both divisions of the Way. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
914:One should know a little of everything. If a man starts a grocery-shop, he keeps all kinds of articles there, including a little lentil and tamarind. An expert musician knows how to play a little on all instruments. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
915:Progress consists not in rejecting beauty and delight, but in rising from the lower to the higher, the less complete to the more complete beauty and delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
916:An abyss yawned suddenly beneath her heart.A vast and nameless fear dragged at her nervesAs drags a wild beast its half-slaughtered prey; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.06 - Nirvana and the Discovery of the All-Negating Absolute,
917:A new aesthesis of Inferno’s artThat trained the mind to love what the soul hates,Imposed allegiance on the quivering nervesAnd forced the unwilling body to vibrate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.07 - The Descent into Night,
918:For even he who is most greedy for knowledge can achieve no greater perfection than to be thoroughly aware of his own ignorance in his particular field. The more be known, the more aware he will be of his ignorance. ~ Nicholas of Cusa,
919:In the navel lotus’ broad imperial rangeIts proud ambitions and its master lustsWere tamed into instruments of a great calm swayTo do a work of God on earthly soil. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.05 - The Finding of the Soul,
920:Poetry raises the emotions and gives each its separate delight. Art stills the emotions and teaches them the delight of a restrained and limited satisfaction. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
921:The months had fed the passion of the sunAnd now his burning breath assailed the soil.The tiger heats prowled through the fainting earth;All was licked up as by a lolling tongue. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.04 - The Quest,
922:There Matter is soul’s result and not its cause.In a contrary balance to earth’s truth of thingsThe gross weighs less, the subtle counts for more; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.06 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Life,
923:Any final recoil from the physical life must be a turning away from the completeness of the divine Wisdom and a renunciation of its aim in earthly manifestation. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 0.02 - The Three Steps of Nature,
924:Having thought of these things, meditating on them in my heart and having considered that I shall find immortality in the union with wisdom, I went in search of her on all sides, that I might take her for my companion. ~ Book of Wisdom,
925:The great Gods use the pain of human heartsAs a sharp axe to hew their cosmic road:They squander lavishly men’s blood and tearsFor a moment’s purpose in their fateful work. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.01 - The Word of Fate,
926:Arisen beneath a triple mystic heavenThe seven immortal earths were seen, sublime:Homes of the blest released from death and sleep ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
927:As knowledge grows Light flames up from within:It is a shining warrior in the mind,An eagle of dreams in the divining heart,An armour in the fight, a bow of God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
928:Do not interpret all things you read according to the literal sense, for philosophers when they write anything too excellent for the vulgar to know, expressed it enigmatically that the sons of Art only might understand it. ~ John French,
929:I housed within my heart the life of things,All hearts athrob in the world I felt as mine;I shared the joy that in creation singsAnd drank its sorrow like a poignant wine. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Life-Unity,
930:Impenetrable, a mystery reconditeIs the vast plan of which we are a part;Its harmonies are discords to our viewBecause we know not the great theme they serve. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
931:In the narrow nether centre’s petty partsIts childish game of daily dwarf desiresWas changed into a sweet and boisterous play,A romp of little gods with life in Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.05 - The Finding of the Soul,
932:There is a silence greater than any knownTo earth’s dumb spirit, motionless in the soul    That has become Eternity’s foothold,        Touched by the infinitudes for ever. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Jivanmukta,
933:My mind is hushed in wide and endless light,My heart a solitude of delight and peace,My sense unsnared by touch and sound and sight,My body a point in white infinities. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Liberation - I,
934:The great hammer-beats of a pent-up world-heartBurst open the narrow dams that keep us safeAgainst the forces of the universe. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
935:Who art thou in the heart comrade of man who sitstAugust, watching his works, watching his joys and griefs,Unmoved, careless of pain, careless of death and fate? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Witness and the Wheel,
936:D.: Sri Aurobindo says that the Light which resides in the head must be brought down to the heart below.M.: Is not the Self already in the Heart? How can the all-pervading Self be taken from one place to another? ~ Sri Ramana Maharshi,
937:Nothing is impossible in this world. Firm determination, it is said, can move heaven and earth. Things appear far beyond one's power, because one cannot set his heart on any arduous project due to want of strong will. ~ Yamamoto Tsunetomo,
938:The harp of God falls mute, its call to blissDiscouraged fails mid earth’s unhappy sounds;The strings of the siren Ecstasy cry not hereOr soon are silenced in the human heart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.01 - The Word of Fate,
939:The other quotation is a mantra.OM Sri Aurobindo MiraOpen my mind, my heart, my life to your Light,your Love, your Power. In all things may I see the Divine.16 July 1938On Himself, 26.512 ~ The Mother, Agenda Vol 11 ,
940:There is a place where words are born of silence,A place where the whispers of the heart arise.There is a place where voices sing your beauty,A place where every breathcarves your imagein my soul. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
941:This huge world unintelligibly turnsIn the shadow of a mused Inconscience;It hides a key to inner meanings missed,It locks in our hearts a voice we cannot hear. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
942:All knowledge and endeavour can reach its fruition only if it is turned into experience and has become a part of the consciousness and its established operations. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine 2.24 - The Evolution of the Spiritual Man,
943:Earth is the chosen place of mightiest souls;Earth is the heroic spirit’s battlefield,The forge where the Archmason shapes his works. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Eternal Day,
944:In following the heart in its purer impulses one follows something that is at least as precious as the mind’s loyalty to its own conceptions of what the Truth may be. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - I 1.1.01 - The Divine and Its Aspects,
945:Love that was once an animal’s desire,Then a sweet madness in the rapturous heart,An ardent comradeship in the happy mind,Becomes a wide spiritual yearning’s space. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
946:Obstructing the gods’ open ways he makesHis own estate of the earth’s air and light;A monopolist of the world-energy,He dominates the life of common men. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 06.02 - The Way of Fate and the Problem of Pain,
947:Then a sound pealed through that dead monstrous realm:Vast like the surge in a tired swimmer’s ears,Clamouring, a fatal iron-hearted roar, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 09.02 - The Journey in Eternal Night and the Voice of the Darkness,
948:There are muffled throbs of laughter’s undertones,The murmur of an occult happiness,An exultation in the depths of sleep,A heart of bliss within a world of pain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.05 - The Godheads of the Little Life,
949:Wisdom is greater than all terrestrial sciences and than all human knowledge. She renders a man indifferent to the joys of the world and permits him to consider with an impassive heart their precipitous and tumultous course. ~ Fa.khen-pi.u,
950:It seized on speech to give those flamings shape,Made beat the heart of wisdom in a wordAnd spoke immortal things through mortal lips. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.07 - The Discovery of the Cosmic Spirit and the Cosmic Consciousness,
951:The artificiality of much in human life is the cause of its most deep-seated maladies; it is not faithful to itself or sincere with Nature and therefore it stumbles and suffers. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle Diversity in Oneness,
952:The body is not only the necessary outer instrument of the physical part of action, but for the purposes of this life a base or pedestal also for all inner action. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.14 - The Power of the Instruments,
953:The love of solitude is a sign of the disposition towards knowledge; but knowledge itself is only achieved when we have a settled perception of solitude in the crowd, in the battle and in the mart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine And Human ,
954:Two genii in the dubious heart of man,    Two great unhappy foes together bound    Wrestle and strive to win unhampered ground;They strive for ever since the race began. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.24 - In the Moonlight,
955:Fourthly, the way of the artisan. The way of the carpenter is to become proficient in the use of his tools, first to lay his plans with true measure and then perform his work according to plan. Thus he passes through life. ~ Miyamoto Musashi,
956:How can a change of consciousness change the life upon earth? A change in human consciousness will make possible the manifestation upon earth of a higher Force, a purer Light, a more total Truth. ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother III ,
957:The crude beginnings of the lifeless earth,The mindless stirrings of the plant and treePrepared our thought; thought for a godlike birthBroadens the mould of our mortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Evolution - II,
958:A border sovereign is the occult Force.A threshold guardian of the earth-scene’s Beyond,She has canalised the outbreaks of the Gods ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Yoga of the King,
959:That is our home and that the secret hopeOur hearts explore.To bring those heavens down upon the earthWe all descend,And fragments of it in the human birthWe can command. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
960:The nature of mind is that it lives between half-lights and darkness, amid probabilities and possibilities, amid partly grasped aspects, amid incertitudes and half certitudes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga 4.20 - The Intuitive Mind,
961:He who leads the life of a householder should devote fifteen parts of his mind to God; otherwise he will face ruin and fall into the clutches of Death. He should perform the duties of the world with only one part of his mind. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
962:However the imagination does not in itself constitute the astral plane. The creative imagination arises at the interface of the astral wave function of reality with the sensitive particle structure in the brain. ~ Peter J Carroll, The Octavo ,
963:I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
964:If you want only the very greatest, none of these can enter - only Vyasa and Sophocles. Vyasa could very well claim a place beside Valmiki, Sophocles beside Aeschylus. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Poetry And Art Great Poets of the World,
965:In the passage of the lotus of the throatWhere speech must rise and the expressing mindAnd the heart’s impulse run towards word and act,A glad uplift and a new working came. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.05 - The Finding of the Soul,
966:Now from his cycle sleepless and vast round the dance of the earth-globeGold Hyperion rose in the wake of the dawn like the eyeballFlaming of God revealed by his uplifted luminous eyelid. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
967:Home-EarthAloof, its influence entered everywhereAnd left a cloven hoof-mark on the breast;A twisted heart and a strange sombre smileMocked at the sinister comedy of life. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.07 - The Descent into Night,
968:Science tears out Nature’s occult powers,Enormous djinns who serve a dwarf’s small needs,Exposes the sealed minutiae of her artAnd conquers her by her own captive force. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
969:She turned to the face of a veiled voiceless TruthHid in the dumb recesses of the heartOr waiting beyond the last peak climbed by Thought. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.07 - The Discovery of the Cosmic Spirit and the Cosmic Consciousness,
970:We do not ordinarily recognise how largely our sense of virtue is a sense of the beautiful in conduct and our sense of sin a sense of ugliness and deformity in conduct. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
971:All music is only the sound of His laughter,All beauty the smile of His passionate bliss;Our lives are His heart-beats, our rapture the bridalOf Radha and Krishna, our love is their kiss. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
972:Doom is a passage for our inborn force,Our ordeal is the hidden spirit’s choice,Ananke is our being’s own decree. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Joy of Union; the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the Heart’s Grief and Pain,
973:My life is the life of village and continent,I am earth’s agony and her throbs of bliss;I share all creatures’ sorrow and contentAnd feel the passage of every stab and kiss. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Cosmic Spirit,
974:My native land is all lands,In no particular direction.My monastery is the solitary mountains,In no particular place.My family is all the beings of the six realms.My name is "Hermit Protected by the Three Jewels. ~ Shabkar,
975:Shakti, Force, pouring through the universe supports its boundless activities, the frail and tremulous life of the rose no less than the flaming motions of sun and star. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Early Cultural Writings The National Value of Art,
976:Soul in the Ignorance, wake from its stupor.Flake of the world-fire, spark of Divinity,Lift up thy mind and thy heart into glory.Sun in the darkness, recover thy lustre. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Soul in the Ignorance,
977:The hearts of men are amorous of clay-kinAnd bear not spirits lone and high who bringFire-intimations from the deathless planesToo vast for souls not born to mate with heaven. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.02 - The Growth of the Flame,
978:When intellectual dishonesty (or gross incompetence) is discovered in one part-even a marginal part-of someone's writings, it is natural to want to examine more critically the rest of his or her work. ~ Sokal and Bricmont, Fashionable Nonsense ,
979:Artificer of Ideal and Idea,Mind, child of Matter in the womb of Life,To higher levels persuades his parents’ steps:Inapt, they follow ill the daring guide. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.02 - The Gospel of Death and Vanity of the Ideal,
980:His earth, dowered with celestial competence,Harboured a power that needed now no moreTo cross the closed customs-line of mind and fleshAnd smuggle godhead into humanity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.09 - The Paradise of the Life-Gods,
981:His earth, dowered with celestial competence,Harboured a power that needed now no moreTo cross the closed customs-line of mind and fleshAnd smuggle godhead into humanity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.09 - The Paradise of the Life-Gods,
982:Instead of trying to produce a programme to simulate the adult mind, why not rather try to produce one which simulates the child's? If this were then subjected to an appropriate course of education one would obtain the adult brain. ~ Alan Turing,
983:Love must not cease to live upon the earth;For Love is the bright link twixt earth and heaven,Love is the far Transcendent’s angel here;Love is man’s lien on the Absolute. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
984:How shall the mighty Mother her calm delightKeep fragrant in this narrow fragile vase,Or lodge her sweet unbroken ecstasyIn hearts which earthly sorrow can assail ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
985:I never feel lonely if Ive got a book - theyre like old friends. Even if youre not reading them over and over again, you know they are there. And theyre part of your history. They sort of tell a story about your journey through life ~ Emilia Fox,
986:At the close of the great Night...He whom the spirit alone can perceive, who escapes from the organs of sense, who is without visible parts, Eternal, the soul of all existences, whom none can comprehend, outspread His own splendours. ~ Laws of Manu,
987:Herds of the SunThus streamed down from the realm of early LightEthereal thinkings into Matter’s world;Its gold-horned herds trooped into earth’s cave-heart. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 02.10 - The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Little Mind,
988:My soul’s wide self of living infinite SpaceOutlines its body luminous and unborn    Behind the earth-robe; under the earth-mask grows clear        The mould of an imperishable face. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Conscious Immortality,
989:My soul’s wide self of living infinite SpaceOutlines its body luminous and unborn    Behind the earth-robe; under the earth-mask grows clear        The mould of an imperishable face. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Conscious Immortality,
990:The earth's uplook to a remote Unknown Is a preface only of the epic climb Of human soul from its flat earthly state To the discovery of a greater self And the far gleam of an eternal Light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 01.04 - The Secret Knowledge,
991:This evil Nature housed in human hearts,A foreign inhabitant, a dangerous guest:The soul that harbours it it can dislodge,Expel the householder, possess the house. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.02 - The Parable of the Search for the Soul,
992:Two are the ends of existence, two are the dreams of the Mother:Heaven unchanging, earth with her time-beats yearn to each other,—Earth-souls needing the touch of the heavens peace to recapture ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
993:Heaven had unveiled its lustre in her eyes,Her feet were moonbeams, her face was a bright sun,Her smile could persuade a dead lacerated heartTo live again and feel the hands of calm. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 07.04 - The Triple Soul-Forces,
994:If Mind is all, renounce the hope of bliss;If Mind is all, renounce the hope of Truth.For Mind can never touch the body of TruthAnd Mind can never see the soul of God; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
995:Open your heart and you will find me already there.Don't be restless, remain quietly concentrated in your heart and you will find me there.1 October 1935 ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother I The Mother With Letters On The Mother,
996:Over all earthly things the soul that is fearless is master,Only on death he can reckon not whether it comes in the midnightTreading the couch of Kings in their pride or speeds in the spear-shaft. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
997:There is a wisdom like a brooding Sun,A Bliss in the heart’s crypt grown fiery white,The heart of a world in which all hearts are one,A Silence on the mountains of delight, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
998:They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
999:When the presence of God emerges from our inmost being into our faculties, whether we walk down the street or drink a cup of soup, divine life is pouring into the world. ~ Thomas Keating, Open Mind Open Heart: The Contemplative Dimension of the Gospel,
1000:Into a simplest movement she could bringA oneness with earth’s glowing robe of light,A lifting up of common acts by love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri The Joy of Union; the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the Heart’s Grief and Pain,

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:If I should stay ~ Dolly Parton,
2:I know him by heart. ~ Ruth Ware,
3:inevitably ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
4:Isness is God. ~ Meister Eckhart,
5: Kanefarten
~ Emil Aarestrup,
6:Keep an open heart ~ Sri Chinmoy,
7: Le Départ
~ Emile Verhaeren,
8:melancholy ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
9:No second chances. ~ Donna Tartt,
10:obsequious Marty ~ Bill O Reilly,
11:one love, one heart ~ Bob Marley,
12:Party on, dudes! ~ Craig Alanson,
13:Pooh, pooh! ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
14:prognathous ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
15:Put on a sweater. ~ Jimmy Carter,
16:retirement party, and ~ L J Shen,
17:richer ~ Vishnuvarthanan Moorthy,
18:she’d first went in, ~ John Hart,
19:Sinful heart blames. ~ Toba Beta,
20:sissyness ~ Siddhartha Mukherjee,
21:started removing ~ Fern Michaels,
22:successfully. ~ Stormie Omartian,
23:The Power of Now ~ Eckhart Tolle,
24:the same time. ~ Rachel E Carter,
25:The War of Art ~ Vishen Lakhiani,
26:Things fall apart. ~ Jim Butcher,
27: Tischkarte
~ Anton Wildgans,
28:true vine, ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
29:truth? The Louvre ~ Ann M Martin,
30:UR O-O: You are cool ~ Bart King,
31:vacillation ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
32:Voilà tout! ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
33:Wild Cat Island ~ Arthur Ransome,
34:wonderful family? ~ Stuart Gibbs,
35:Work hard AND smart. ~ Mike Rowe,
36:You're blocking. ~ Martha N Beck,
37:You were stalwart. ~ Jeff Hirsch,
38:A broken heart cannot be mended ~,
39:affectation, ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
40:All art is erotic. ~ Gustav Klimt,
41:And if she ruins me? ~ Staci Hart,
42:Artemis simple-toon ~ Eoin Colfer,
43:Art is everything. ~ Ksenia Anske,
44:Be wholehearted. ~ Yasmin Mogahed,
45:Can't rush art. ~ Victoria Schwab,
46:charlatanism ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
47:counterpart, in ~ Joseph Campbell,
48:Dawn be so rotten? ~ Ann M Martin,
49:depreciatory ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
50:Die in silence. ~ Arthur Koestler,
51:Father Cavanaugh ~ Monique Martin,
52:Foxheart. “StarClan ~ Erin Hunter,
53:Gesellschaft ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
55:go-first-class ~ David J Schwartz,
56:Have a heartattack! ~ David Lubar,
57:Heart of Gold ~ Megan Jean Sovern,
58:heart was racing. ~ Heidi R Kling,
59:He just started ~ Walter Isaacson,
60:HIS LAST BOW ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
61:Hogwarts is my home ~ J K Rowling,
62:Honor is overrated. ~ Ally Carter,
63:If not now, when? ~ Eckhart Tolle,
64:inconsequent ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
65:Ingen är normal. ~ Art Spiegelman,
66:I smile.
I lie. ~ Ally Carter,
67:It is a dead heart. ~ Anne Sexton,
68:Je est un autre. ~ Arthur Rimbaud,
69:Matters progressed. ~ Donna Tartt,
70: Musa Infeliz
~ Artur Azevedo,
71:Nay,” Isaac said. ~ Ann H Gabhart,
72:OK, Arty,” I said. ~ Ernest Cline,
73:pavement artist—you ~ Ally Carter,
74:poke around ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
75:pretty faces again. ~ Martin Lake,
76:querulously. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
77:readers ~ Vishnuvarthanan Moorthy,
78:remonstrance ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
79:remonstrated ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
80:Run into peace. ~ Meister Eckhart,
81:self-contained, ~ Lynne McTaggart,
82:Sharpen your heart. ~ Holly Black,
83:Sleep and fail. ~ Rachel E Carter,
84:stalwart soldiers ~ Anton Chekhov,
85:superfluous; ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
86:The Art of Animation ~ Ed Catmull,
87:The branches of the ~ Martin Lake,
88:the good part, ~ Karen McQuestion,
89:third-world ~ Garth Risk Hallberg,
90:Thou art God. ~ Robert A Heinlein,
91:though you may be ~ Eckhart Tolle,
92:To Educate is to Free. ~ Jos Mart,
93:with fresh bread, ~ Marti Talbott,
94:You’re really smart. ~ Tim Dorsey,
95:A clod of earth. ~ Haruki Murakami,
96:All art is erotic. ~ Pablo Picasso,
97:Art for art's sake. ~ Howard Dietz,
98:Art lies in concealing art. ~ Ovid,
99:Art pries us open. ~ Amanda Palmer,
100:Art should stimulate. ~ Ala Bashir,
101:At least he’s pretty. ~ Staci Hart,
102:Being humble matters. ~ Kevin Hart,
103:Be undeniably good. ~ Steve Martin,
104:Character is destiny ~ Martin Amis,
105:Common is overrated. ~ Ally Carter,
106:convalescent, ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
107:Crazy. I went crazy. ~ Ally Carter,
108:Don't eat your heart. ~ Pythagoras,
109:fresh pear martinis, ~ Erika Wilde,
110:Futilitarianism. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
111:highest when ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
112:I do not suffer fools ~ E Lockhart,
113:I miss tarty tarts. ~ Frank Beddor,
114:I Shall Return ~ Douglas MacArthur,
115:I shouldn't be alive ~ Ally Carter,
116:It’s a trap! ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
117:It was a smart move. ~ Eoin Colfer,
118:I want this party. ~ Philippa Carr,
119:I wasn’t Spiderman. ~ Aly Martinez,
120:KAMU: Kiss and make up ~ Bart King,
121:kindergarten ~ John Maynard Keynes,
122:Laugh, if thou art wise. ~ Martial,
123:Loki and Pop-Tarts; ~ Rick Riordan,
124:ludic: cigarette ~ Garth Greenwell,
125:magic power, Trouble. ~ Riley Hart,
126:Masked, I advance. ~ Ren Descartes,
127:Max Byrd’s Grant. ~ John Lescroart,
128:Me? I'm a mocker! ~ Paul McCartney,
129:My goals are so high. ~ Kevin Hart,
130:My trigger got no heart. ~ Big Pun,
131:Not knaves, fools. ~ Mary McCarthy,
132:Now life is imitating art. ~ Rakim,
133:or farting weasels. ~ Rick Riordan,
134:Part 1
A Just Man ~ Victor Hugo,
135: Prarthana
~ Dhani Ram Chatrik,
136:recalcitrants ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
137:sardonically. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
138:Seize the century. ~ Stewart Brand,
139:Start-Up Chile (SUP) ~ Donald Sull,
140:sweetheart, Ted. A ~ Beth Albright,
141:tapestry upon ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
142:Tartaruga! Pronto! ~ John Flanagan,
143:The Art of Asking, ~ Carmine Gallo,
144:The Art of Discarding ~ Marie Kond,
145:To be is to do. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,
146: Velha Anedota
~ Artur Azevedo,
147:Vorwarts nach Veldenz! ~ Anonymous,
148:Welcome to Hogwarts, ~ J K Rowling,
149:We were so happy. ~ Liane Moriarty,
150:What on earth, boys! ~ Fred Gipson,
151:all cops part shrink? ~ Mary Burton,
152:All parties are good. ~ Bill Murray,
153:Art is rooted in joy. ~ Yann Martel,
154:artworks, polished ~ Willow Winters,
155:At a quarter to eleven, ~ Anonymous,
156:Be merry if you are wise. ~ Martial,
157:Be smart, drink your wine. ~ Horace,
158:bespectacled, ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
159:better person.” I’m ~ Martha N Beck,
160:consternation. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
161:created, and ~ Benjamin Carter Hett,
162:during Earthrise ~ Jonathan Strahan,
163:Empathy smartens you ~ Beth Kephart,
164:expostulation. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
165:Faith is Individual ~ Martin Luther,
166:good-natured groom on ~ Donna Tartt,
167:half-sovereign ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
168:I'm confident in my art. ~ Kid Cudi,
169:I'm not really book-smart. ~ Eminem,
170:including ~ Vishnuvarthanan Moorthy,
171:Indeed Watson. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
172:It’ll just hurt a lot. ~ E Lockhart,
173:Jean-Guy’s apartment ~ Louise Penny,
174:Kalevala, whereas ~ Arthur C Clarke,
175: Kanefarten
~ Christian Winther,
176:Late to the Party ~ Kirkus MacGowan,
177:Live now, die later! ~ Stewart Home,
178:love Zeth Mayfair… If ~ Callie Hart,
179:mead for my men! ~ Donald Barthelme,
180:Miss Perumal. ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
181:More will mean worse. ~ Martin Amis,
182:... mornings are dumb. ~ Staci Hart,
183:My heart is so tired ~ Markus Zusak,
184:Part 2: Confidence ~ Howard Schultz,
185:piteous heart ~ William Shakespeare,
186:Pop culture was in art ~ Lady Gaga,
187:pusillanimous ~ Garth Risk Hallberg,
188:Rob Leininger, via ~ John Lescroart,
189:Run, sweetheart, run. ~ Rae Hachton,
190:sex crimes and a man ~ T J Brearton,
191:she’s part Armenian, ~ Dahlia Adler,
192:Stop learning. Start knowing ~ Rumi,
193:The Heart is like a candle, ~ Rumi,
194:THINK CREATIVELY ~ David J Schwartz,
195:Thou art a peanut. ~ John Steinbeck,
196:tidy. The walls ~ Martha Hall Kelly,
197:To Educate is to Free. ~ Jose Marti,
198: Uma Observaçao
~ Artur Azevedo,
199:wasn’t my department, ~ J K Rowling,
200:We both played the game ~ Emma Hart,
201:You're your own play. ~ Jon Stewart,
202:"Your life is now." ~ Eckhart Tolle,
203:Your life is your art. ~ Keri Smith,
204:Adamski’s Disease. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
205:afternoon he ~ Mary Roberts Rinehart,
206:All for all, always. ~ Martha N Beck,
207:amethopterin, ~ Siddhartha Mukherjee,
208:and start west ~ William S Burroughs,
209:Art is a way of survival. ~ Yoko Ono,
210:Art is for everybody. ~ Keith Haring,
211:Art is stronger than Nature ~ Titian,
212:Art lies by its own artifice. ~ Ovid,
213:away, echoing off the ~ T J Brearton,
214:Be still my heart. ~ Janet Evanovich,
215:Blood! Blast! And Fire ~ Stuart Hill,
216:Comedy is not pretty. ~ Steve Martin,
217:Compañero de cuarto Sexy ~ Anonymous,
218:corporatocracy ~ Garth Risk Hallberg,
219:Earth's sweat, the sea. ~ Empedocles,
220:Energy begets energy. ~ Dolly Parton,
221:Follow your heart, ~ Nicholas Sparks,
222:Fuck me, Ravenmaster! ~ Julia Stuart,
223:God is all and all is God. ~ Eckhart,
224:He's no Bill Clinton! ~ Benny Carter,
225:Hiding is for amateurs ~ Ally Carter,
226:How sad, a heart that ~ Omar Khayyam,
227:I'm an optimist at heart. ~ Ted Cruz,
228:I'm not a flamboyant artist. ~ Rakim,
229: Im Volksgarten
~ Anton Wildgans,
230:It's good to be alive. ~ Artie Lange,
231:It's like hunting cows ~ Jon Stewart,
232:Kristy smirked at me. ~ Ann M Martin,
233:Let me go, let me go. ~ Clara Barton,
234:Life is a grand party. ~ Ezra Miller,
235:Life is a song to me. ~ Dolly Parton,
236:Life is short, art is long. ~ Seneca,
237:Love is a decision. ~ Liane Moriarty,
238:me. I need your help. ~ Stuart Gibbs,
239:Muzeul Jacquemart-André, ~ Anonymous,
240:Nature is not human hearted. ~ Laozi,
241:obtuse, Holmes, ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
242:Press on, regardless. ~ Mary Stewart,
243:presume nothing ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
244:propinquity, ~ Mary Roberts Rinehart,
245: Rêve D'Artiste
~ Émile Nelligan,
246:Rick pushed the cart ~ Carolyn Brown,
247:riding in the back way. ~ Kat Martin,
248:Sherlock Holmes ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
249:squidgiest fraction ~ Liane Moriarty,
250:Startup Lessons Learned, ~ Eric Ries,
251:The Alexandria Quartet ~ Pamela Paul,
253:THE CROOKED MAN ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
254:The Earth needs rebels! ~ David Icke,
255:The heart can do anything. ~ Moli re,
256:The nymphs are departed. ~ T S Eliot,
257:The wailing of broken hearts ~ Rumi,
258:THE YELLOW FACE ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
259:Think big. Start small. ~ Seth Godin,
260:This, too, will pass ~ Eckhart Tolle,
261:USTED NO ES SU MENTE ~ Eckhart Tolle,
262:valetudinarian. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
263:vicissitudes ~ Mary Roberts Rinehart,
264:We can but try. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
265:Who Stole the Tarts? ~ Lewis Carroll,
266:wild are, in practice, ~ Yann Martel,
267:You are what you wear. ~ Nick Carter,
268:You're too damn selfish! ~ Owen Hart,
269:You were always mine. ~ Aly Martinez,
270:Action cures fear. ~ David J Schwartz,
271:Act your part with honor. ~ Epictetus,
272: A Lagartixa
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
273:All writing is filth ~ Antonin Artaud,
274:Amen to that. ~ Martin Luther King Jr,
275:and so it goes with God ~ Yann Martel,
276:Ars est celare artem. ~ Flann O Brien,
277:Art destroys the life. ~ Irving Stone,
278:Art is affirmation. ~ N Scott Momaday,
279:Art is a serious matter ~ Umberto Eco,
280:Art is really a battle. ~ Edgar Degas,
281:Asparagus is in season. ~ Donna Tartt,
282:began to tingletingled ~ Paige Dearth,
283:belt of whisky. ~ Garth Risk Hallberg,
284:Carter-headed chicken. ~ Rick Riordan,
285:catalogue raisonné ~ John Stuart Mill,
286:Comedy is a noble art. ~ Margaret Cho,
287:commiseratingly, ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
288:Demographics is destiny ~ Arthur Kemp,
289:Depression starts slow. ~ Ned Vizzini,
290:Disaster is my muse. ~ Art Spiegelman,
291:Eternity is the sun ~ Arthur Rimbaud,
292:even death has a heart ~ Markus Zusak,
293:Everyone is an artist. ~ Joseph Beuys,
294:Fashion breaks my heart. ~ Kanye West,
295:great photojournalists ~ Stuart Woods,
296:Have courage, dear heart. ~ C S Lewis,
297:heartbeat quickened. ~ Laurie LeClair,
298:Her-Story Department, ~ Bill O Reilly,
299:Hiding is for amateurs. ~ Ally Carter,
300: Hiemfarten
~ Adam Oehlenschläger,
301:I am not a party girl. ~ Bridget Hall,
302:I am what I photograph. ~ Martin Parr,
303:I grew up with artists. ~ Jason Momoa,
304:I had a dream ~ Martin Luther King Jr,
305:I have started to say ~ Philip Larkin,
306:It’s okay to be broken. ~ Callie Hart,
307:It's so Hogwarts. ~ Stephanie Perkins,
308:I've nearly started! ~ Bill Watterson,
309:I would kill Fireheart! ~ Erin Hunter,
310:magnetohydrodynamic ~ Arthur C Clarke,
311:Manson the martyr. ~ Vincent Bugliosi,
312:memories fall apart too. ~ John Green,
313:Miseries of a birth. ~ Roland Barthes,
314:My heart for yours ~ Rachel Van Dyken,
315:my remarkable walked ~ Alan Partridge,
316:Nada, sólo existo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,
317:Negativity hid fear. ~ Liane Moriarty,
318:Pagan blood returns! ~ Arthur Rimbaud,
319:Philosophy.—Nil. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
320:POS: Parent over shoulder ~ Bart King,
321:privileging her ~ Garth Risk Hallberg,
322:purely negative approach ~ Karl Barth,
323:R2-D2, where art thou? ~ Ian Doescher,
324:(refactored)    /** ~ Robert C Martin,
325:replied d'Artagnan, ~ Alexandre Dumas,
326:Secrets tear you apart. ~ Mitch Albom,
327:seem to bear flowers or ~ Yann Martel,
328:started its ascent ~ Michael Connelly,
329:"Start where you are." ~ Pema Chödron,
330:The Earth is deep, ~ Orson Scott Card,
331:The heart is stupid. ~ Molly Ringwald,
332:their way to becoming ~ Steve Martini,
333:THE NAVAL TREATY ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
334:the river spit me out. ~ Stuart Gibbs,
335:THE SIGN OF FOUR ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
336:This, too, will pass. ~ Eckhart Tolle,
337:Where do girls come from? ~ Bart King,
338:Winter is coming. ~ George R R Martin,
339:Work smarter, not harder ~ Carl Barks,
340:worse. She wanted to ~ Liane Moriarty,
341:You are not your mind ~ Eckhart Tolle,
342:You’re my heart’s hero. ~ Carian Cole,
343:You're tearing me apart! ~ James Dean,
344:Afrikander cattle. ~ Justin Cartwright,
345:All art is propaganda. ~ George Orwell,
346:All art is subversive. ~ Pablo Picasso,
347:All great art is praise. ~ John Ruskin,
348:All is to be doubted. ~ Rene Descartes,
349:All men hate the nagging. ~ Kevin Hart,
350:All part of the service. ~ Peter David,
351:All suffering has an end. ~ Kay Arthur,
352:All yours, sweetheart. ~ Elena Kincaid,
353:and so it goes with God. ~ Yann Martel,
354:anglepoise lamp. ~ Garth Risk Hallberg,
355:Art is childhood. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke,
356:Art is magic. ~ Carrie Viscome Skinner,
357:Art needs an operation ~ Tristan Tzara,
358:A selfish man is a thief. ~ Jose Marti,
359:Become what thou art. ~ Orphic Precept,
360:Be gentle with the earth. ~ Dalai Lama,
361:bhastaird mór, ~ Heather Grace Stewart,
362:But my heart rebelled. ~ Cameron Dokey,
363:cool to room temperature. ~ Ina Garten,
364:countercampaign ~ Siddhartha Mukherjee,
365:crowds. I hated parties ~ CeeCee James,
366:data outlives code. ~ Martin Kleppmann,
367:Demographics is destiny. ~ Arthur Kemp,
368:De omnibus dubitandum ~ Rene Descartes,
369:Design is expression. ~ W Brian Arthur,
370:Dig into it deeper. ~ David J Schwartz,
371:Divas need their furs! ~ Martha Reeves,
372:Earth: mostly harmless ~ Douglas Adams,
373:Ember Falls on Kickstarter ~ S D Smith,
374:enough to show the black ~ Donna Tartt,
375:Even death has a heart. ~ Markus Zusak,
376:Every man is an artist. ~ Joseph Beuys,
377:Funny is funny is funny. ~ Bob Newhart,
378:Got the itch? - Jared ~ Martha Sweeney,
379:great is the art ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
380:Greed can overtake smart. ~ Bill Maher,
381:Guard your mortal heart. ~ Holly Black,
382:Hes gone. Hes just gone. ~ Ally Carter,
383:How I hate everything! ~ Edith Wharton,
384:I don't even like parties. ~ Doris Day,
385:I don't understand boys. ~ Ally Carter,
386:I Have A Dream ~ Martin Luther King Jr,
387:I love Steven Wright. ~ Demetri Martin,
388:I love stuff like Mozart. ~ Robin Gibb,
389:I love Velveeta cheese. ~ Dolly Parton,
390:I'm a killer, not a thief. ~ John Hart,
391:I'm not a sex symbol. ~ Jenny McCarthy,
392:Isn't Fate Artistic? ~ Cressida Cowell,
393:It is our part to seek, ~ Saint Jerome,
394:It was very difficult. ~ Gina Rinehart,
395:I was safer at Hogwarts. ~ J K Rowling,
396:lacunar amnesia, ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
397:Legio Patria Nostra,” he ~ A J Stewart,
398:Love finds me difficult. ~ Martin Amis,
399:Maybe, although my heart ~ Anne Sexton,
400:Maybe she was sexist. ~ Liane Moriarty,
401:Minimal art went nowhere. ~ Sol LeWitt,
402:Minkowski spacetime. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
403:Money ain't everything. ~ Dolly Parton,
404:My heart is asleep. We ~ Tarryn Fisher,
405:My heart is on a budget. ~ Anne Sexton,
406:My heart is so tired ~ Rudyard Kipling,
407:Our hearts do not need logic. ~ Lois W,
408:Pakao, to su drugi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,
409:Pop art is for everyone. ~ Andy Warhol,
410:Redefine the possible. ~ Stewart Brand,
411:–Schön, nicht wahr? ~ Curzio Malaparte,
412:Sharpness is overrated. ~ Keith Carter,
413:She's a smart girl, so she doesn't ,
414:speaks truth in his heart; ~ Anonymous,
415:SPECIAL CASE PATTERN ~ Robert C Martin,
416:Start slow and taper off. ~ Walt Stack,
417:start with one true thing ~ C E Murphy,
418:That was it, sir. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
419:THE FINAL PROBLEM ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
420:The heart breaks open. ~ Gail Caldwell,
421:The heart is an arrow. ~ Leigh Bardugo,
422:The martyrdom of me. ~ Chuck Palahniuk,
423:The only crime is art. ~ Gerald Weaver,
424:theories, instead ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
426:The truth is out there. ~ Chris Carter,
427:The world was waking up. ~ Mira Bartok,
428:Use your art to fight. ~ Arundhati Roy,
429:We are our choices. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,
430:What am I doing here? ~ Arthur Rimbaud,
431:What started as a whisper ~ Ben Harper,
432:Where's the fun in that? ~ Ally Carter,
433:Wine and women bring misery. ~ Martial,
434:You are only partly alive. ~ Ira Levin,
435:you people's departments ~ David Weber,
436:Your face is my heart ~ Diana Gabaldon,
437:All art is quite useless. ~ Oscar Wilde,
438:All good art is abstract. ~ John Newman,
439:All tomorrows start here. ~ Neil Gaiman,
440:Art destroys silence. ~ Alicia Ostriker,
441:Art is born of humiliation. ~ W H Auden,
442:Art must not serve might. ~ Karel Capek,
443:Art? That's a man's name. ~ Andy Warhol,
444:be a wonderful showcase, ~ Stuart Woods,
445:Be cheerful, if you are wise. ~ Martial,
446:bemused. “You wouldn’t ~ Liane Moriarty, smart, don't be a retard. ~ Eminem,
448:Bring it, Darth Bathrobe! ~ Jim Butcher,
449:british bombshell" -grant ~ Ally Carter,
450:Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. ~ Anonymous,
451:Earth stuff, Mars boy. ~ Stephen Baxter,
452:En alguna parte te espero. ~ John Green,
453:enter at the exit ~ Trenton Lee Stewart,
454:Everybody has a purpose. ~ Dolly Parton,
455:Everybody's a specialist. ~ Hal Hartley,
456:Falling in love with love ~ Lorenz Hart,
457:from all parts and were ~ Stephen Crane,
458:front of an open apartment ~ Cari Quinn,
459:Garden Planning Chart ~ Carleen Madigan,
460:Go get your heart broken. ~ Neil Gaiman,
461:Good morning sweetheart. ~ Tahereh Mafi,
462:Great is the art, ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
463:Growth is a part of change. ~ Toba Beta,
464:Headquarters in the Saddle. ~ John Pope,
465:Hell ain't half full. ~ Cormac McCarthy,
466:Hell is other people ~ Jean Paul Sartre,
467:He was never fond of dogs, ~ E Lockhart,
468:Home is where the heart is ~ John Green,
469:Hunger starts in the mind. ~ Jason Fung,
470:I can concentrate on my art. ~ Lou Reed,
471:I eat my heart out alone. ~ Azar Nafisi,
472:I hold you within my heart. ~ Anonymous,
473:I like down-to-earth people. ~ Amos Lee,
474:I'm an artist at heart. ~ Lance Reddick,
475:I'm not afraid of a party! ~ Alex Riley,
476:In the deserts of the heart ~ W H Auden,
477:I think Mark’s death was ~ Stuart Woods,
478:It is all surmise. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
479:I've been known to preach. ~ Kevin Hart,
480:I will never lie to you. ~ Jimmy Carter,
481:I would like to direct. ~ Aaron Eckhart,
482:, ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,#light,#heart,#home,
483:Knowledge is power!! ~ Stormie Omartian,
484:Laughter always forgives. ~ Martin Amis,
485:LEWIS CARROLL’S CIPHER ~ Martin Gardner,
486:Life is what you make it. ~ A J Stewart,
487:Love is like a butterfly ~ Dolly Parton,
488:martyrs of the Antarctic. ~ Dan Simmons,
489:Misfortune was my god. ~ Arthur Rimbaud,
490:much older than you knew ~ Faith Martin,
491:My heart is in your hands. ~ Maya Banks,
492:My heart is yours to break ~ Kiera Cass,
493:My heart's a dance of fear. ~ Aeschylus,
494:No one is any one thing. ~ Martin Short,
495:Only art means anything. ~ Edward Gorey,
496:pray without ceasing ~ Stormie Omartian,
497:quartermaster, ~ Robert Louis Stevenson,
498:Set not thy heart upon riches. ~ Psalms,
499:Skip the boring parts. ~ Elmore Leonard,
500:Smartass is a latent idiot. ~ Toba Beta,

--- IN CHAPTERS (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)


   34 Occultism
   23 Kabbalah
   15 Philosophy
   10 Integral Yoga
   2 Integral Theory
   2 Christianity

  150 Sri Aurobindo
   24 Aleister Crowley
   21 Sri Ramakrishna
   20 Saint Teresa of Avila
   17 The Mother
   13 Friedrich Nietzsche
   9 Jorge Luis Borges
   6 Sri Ramana Maharshi
   2 Nolini Kanta Gupta
   2 Kahlil Gibran
   2 Jorge Luis Borges
   2 Italo Calvino
   2 H. P. Lovecraft

   75 The Synthesis Of Yoga
   64 Letters On Yoga III
   62 Collected Poems
   56 The Life Divine
   49 Savitri
   45 Liber ABA
   34 The Divine Comedy
   30 Essays On The Gita
   26 Letters On Yoga I
   25 Essays In Philosophy And Yoga
   25 Essays Divine And Human
   24 The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna
   24 Letters On Yoga II
   22 Poetics
   22 General Principles of Kabbalah
   21 Words Of Long Ago
   19 Words Of The Mother II
   19 The Way of Perfection
   14 The Secret Of The Veda
   14 The Mother With Letters On The Mother
   14 Isha Upanishad
   12 Twilight of the Idols
   12 Theosophy
   11 The Mothers Agenda
   11 Talks
   11 Kena and Other Upanishads
   10 The Problems of Philosophy
   10 The Interior Castle or The Mansions
   10 The Integral Yoga
   10 Knowledge of the Higher Worlds
   10 A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah
   9 Hymns to the Mystic Fire
   8 Words Of The Mother III
   8 The Hero with a Thousand Faces
   8 The Blue Cliff Records
   8 The Bible
   8 Dark Night of the Soul
   7 Walden
   7 On Education
   7 Liber Null
   7 Agenda Vol 1
   6 The Secret Doctrine
   5 The Red Book Liber Novus
   4 The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People
   4 Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin
   3 The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma
   3 The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep
   3 The Lotus Sutra
   3 The Gateless Gate
   3 Sex Ecology Spirituality
   3 Sefer Yetzirah The Book of Creation In Theory and Practice
   2 The Prophet
   2 The Castle of Crossed Destinies
   2 Talks With Sri Aurobindo
   2 Selected Fictions
   2 Book of Certitude
   2 Aion
   2 Advanced Dungeons and Dragons 2E

00.01_-_The_Mother_on_Savitri, #Sweet Mother - Harmonies of Light, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  You know, before writing Savitri Sri Aurobindo said to me, *I am impelled to launch on a new adventure; I was hesitant in the beginning, but now I am decided. Still, I do not know how far I shall succeed. I pray for help.* And you know what it was? It was - before beginning, I warn you in advance - it was His way of speaking, so full of divine humility and modesty. He never... *asserted Himself*. And the day He actually began it, He told me: *I have launched myself in a rudderless boat upon the vastness of the Infinite.* And once having stArted, He wrote page after page without intermission, as though it were a thing already complete up there and He had only to transcribe it in ink down here on these pages.
  In truth, the entire form of Savitri has descended "en masse" from the highest region and Sri Aurobindo with His genius only arranged the lines - in a superb and magnificent style. Sometimes entire lines were revealed and He has left them intact; He worked hard, untiringly, so that the inspiration could come from the highest possible summit. And what a work He has created! Yes, it is a true creation in itself. It is an unequalled work. Everything is there, and it is put in such a simple, such a clear form; verses perfectly harmonious, limpid and eternally true. My child, I have read so many things, but I have never come across anything which could be compared with Savitri. I have studied the best works in Greek, Latin, English and of course French literature, also in German and all the great creations of the West and the East, including the great epics; but I repeat it, I have not found anywhere anything comparable with Savitri. All these literary works seems to me empty, flat, hollow, without any deep reality - apArt from a few rare exceptions, and these too represent only a small fraction of what Savitri is. What grandeur, what amplitude, what reality: it is something immortal and eternal He has created. I tell you once again there is nothing like in it the whole world. Even if one puts aside the vision of the reality, that is, the essential substance which is the heArt of the inspiration, and considers only the lines in themselves, one will find them unique, of the highest classical kind. What He has created is something man cannot imagine. For, everything is there, everything.
  These are experiences lived by Him, realities, supracosmic truths. He experienced all these as one experiences joy or sorrow, physically. He walked in the darkness of inconscience, even in the neighborhood of death, endured the sufferings of perdition, and emerged from the mud, the world-misery to breathe the sovereign plenitude and enter the supreme Ananda. He crossed all these realms, went through the consequences, suffered and endured physically what one cannot imagine. Nobody till today has suffered like Him. He accepted suffering to transform suffering into the joy of union with the Supreme. It is something unique and incomparable in the history of the world. It is something that has never happened before, He is the first to have traced the path in the Unknown, so that we may be able to walk with certitude towards the Supermind. He has made the work easy for us. Savitri is His whole Yoga of transformation, and this Yoga appears now for the first time in the eArth-consciousness.
  And I think that man is not yet ready to receive it. It is too high and too vast for him. He cannot understand it, grasp it, for it is not by the mind that one can understand Savitri. One needs spiritual experiences in order to understand and assimilate it. The fArther one advances on the path of Yoga, the more does one assimilate and the better. No, it is something which will be appreciated only in the future, it is the poetry of tomorrow of which He has spoken in The Future Poetry. It is too subtle, too refined, - it is not in the mind or through the mind, it is in meditation that Savitri is revealed.
  My child, every day you are going to read Savitri; read properly, with the right attitude, concentrating a little before opening the pages and trying to keep the mind as empty as possible, absolutely without a thought. The direct road is through the heArt. I tell you, if you try to really concentrate with this aspiration you can light the flame, the psychic flame, the flame of purification in a very short time, perhaps in a few days. What you cannot do normally, you can do with the help of Savitri. Try and you will see how very different it is, how new, if you read with this attitude, with this something at the back of your consciousness; as though it were an offering to Sri Aurobindo. You know it is charged, fully charged with consciousness; as if Savitri were a being, a real guide. I tell you, whoever, wanting to practice Yoga, tries sincerely and feels the necessity for it, will be able to climb with the help of Savitri to the highest rung of the ladder of Yoga, will be able to find the secret that Savitri represents. And this without the help of a Guru. And he will be able to practice it anywhere. For him Savitri alone will be the guide, for all that he needs he will find Savitri. If he remains very quiet when before a difficulty, or when he does not know where to turn to go forward and how to overcome obstacles, for all these hesitations and incertitudes which overwhelm us at every moment, he will have the necessary indications, and the necessary concrete help. If he remains very calm, open, if he aspires sincerely, always he will be as if lead by the hand. If he has faith, the will to give himself and essential sincerity he will reach the final goal.
  Indeed, Savitri is something concrete, living, it is all replete, packed with consciousness, it is the supreme knowledge above all human philosophies and religions. It is the spiritual path, it is Yoga, Tapasya, Sadhana, in its single body. Savitri has an extraordinary power, it gives out vibrations for him who can receive them, the true vibrations of each stage of consciousness. It is incomparable, it is truth in its plenitude, the Truth Sri Aurobindo brought down on the eArth. My child, one must try to find the secret that Savitri represents, the prophetic message Sri Aurobindo reveals there for us. This is the work before you, it is hard but it is worth the trouble. - 5 November 1967

0.01_-_Introduction, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  One day, we were like this first man in the great, stridulant night of the Oyapock. Our heArt was beating with the rediscovery of a very ancient mystery - suddenly, it was absolutely new to be a man amidst the diorite cascades and the pretty red and black coral snakes slithering beneath the leaves. It was even more extraordinary to be a man than our old confirmed tribes, with their infallible equations and imprescriptible biologies, could ever have dreamed. It was an absolutely uncertain 'quantum' that delightfully eluded whatever one thought of it, including perhaps what even the scholars thought of it. It flowed otherwise, it felt otherwise. It lived in a kind of flawless continuity with the sap of the giant balata trees, the cry of the macaws and the scintillating water of a little fountain. It 'understood' in a very different way. To understand was to be in everything. Just a quiver, and one was in the skin of a little iguana in distress. The skin of the world was very vast.
  To be a man after rediscovering a million years was mysteriously like being something still other than man, a strange, unfinished possibility that could also be all kinds of other things. It was not in the dictionary, it was fluid and boundless - it had become a man through habit, but in truth, it was formidably virgin, as if all the old laws belonged to laggard barbarians. Then other moons began whirring through the skies to the cry of macaws at sunset, another rhythm was born that was strangely in tune with the rhythm of all, making one single flow of the world, and there we went, lightly, as if the body had never had any weight other than that of our human thought; and the stars were so near, even the giant airplanes roaring overhead seemed vain Artifices beneath smiling galaxies. A man was the overwhelming Possible. He was even the great discoverer of the Possible.
  Thus had we mused in the heArt of our ancient forest while we were still hesitating between unlikely flakes of gold and a civilization that seemed to us quite toxic and obsolete, however mathematical. But other mathematics were flowing through our veins, an equation as yet unformed between this mammoth world and a little point replete with a light air and immense forebodings.
  It was at this point that we met Mother, at this intersection of the anthropoid rediscovered and the 'something' that had set in motion this unfinished invention momentarily ensnared in a gilded machine. For nothing was finished, and nothing had been invented, really, that would instill peace and wideness in this heArt of no species at all.
  We landed there, one day in February 1954, having emerged from our Guianese forest and a certain number of dead-end peripluses; we had knocked upon all the doors of the old world before reaching that point of absolute impossibility where it was truly necessary to embark into something else or once and for all put a bullet through the brain of this slightly superior ape. The first thing that struck us was this exotic Notre Dame with its burning incense sticks, its effigies and its prostrations in immaculate white: a Church. We nearly jumped into the first train out that very evening, bound straight for the Himalayas, or the devil. But we remained near Mother for nineteen years. What was it, then, that could have held us there? We had not left Guiana to become a little saint in white or to enter some new religion. 'I did not come upon eArth to found an ashram; that would have been a poor aim indeed,' She wrote in 1934. What did all this mean, then, this 'Ashram' that was already registered as the owner of a great spiritual business, and this fragile, little silhouette at the center of all these zealous worshippers? In truth, there is no better way to smother someone than to worship him: he chokes beneath the weight of worship, which moreover gives the worshipper claim to ownership. 'Why do you want to worship?' She exclaimed. 'You have but to become! It is the laziness to become that makes one worship.' She wanted so much to make them
   become this 'something else,' but it was far easier to worship and quiescently remain what one was.
  She spoke to deaf ears. She was very alone in this 'ashram.' Little by little, the disciples fill up the place, then they say: it is ours. It is 'the Ashram.' We are 'the disciples.' In Pondicherry as in Rome as in Mecca. 'I do not want a religion! An end to religions!' She exclaimed. She struggled and fought in their midst - was She therefore to leave this EArth like one more saint or yogi, buried beneath haloes, the 'continuatrice' of a great spiritual lineage? She was seventy-six years old when we landed there, a knife in our belt and a ready curse on our lips.
  Where, then, was 'the Mother of the Ashram' in all this? What is even 'the Ashram,' if not a spiritual museum of the resistances to Something Else. They were always - and still today - reciting their catechism beneath a little flag: they are the owners of the new truth. But the new truth is laughing in their faces and leaving them high and dry at the edge of their little stagnant pond. They are under the illusion that Mother and Sri Aurobindo, twenty-seven or four years after their respective depArtures, could keep on repeating themselves - but then they would not be Mother and
  Sri Aurobindo! They would be fossils. The truth is always on the move. It is with those who dare, who have courage, and above all the courage to shatter all the effigies, to de-mystify, and to go
  'Are you conscious of your ceils?' She asked us a short time after the little operation of spiritual demolition She had undergone. 'No? Well, become conscious of your cells, and you will see that it gives TERRESTRIAL results.' To become conscious of one's cells? ... It was a far more radical operation than crossing the Maroni with a machete in hand, for after all, trees and lianas can be cut, but what cannot be so easily uncovered are the grandfather and the grandmother and the whole atavistic pack, not to mention the animal and plant and mineral layers that form a teeming humus over this single pure little cell beneath its millennial genetic program. The grandfathers and grandmothers grow back again like crabgrass, along with all the old habits of being hungry, afraid, falling ill, fearing the worst, hoping for the best, which is still the best of an old mortal habit. All this is not uprooted nor entrapped as easily as celestial 'liberations,' which leave the teeming humus in peace and the body to its usual decomposition. She had come to hew a path through all that. She was the Ancient One of evolution who had come to make a new cleft in the old, tedious habit of being a man. She did not like tedious repetitions, She was the adventuress par excellence - the adventuress of the eArth. She was wrenching out for man the great Possible that was already beating there, in his primeval clearing, which he believed he had momentarily trapped with a few machines.
  Mother is the story of the free EArth. Free from its spiritual and scientific parrots. Free from its little ashrams as well - for there is nothing more persistent than those pArticular parrots.
  Day after day, for seventeen years, She sat with us to tell us of her impossible odyssey. Ah, how well we now understand why She needed such an 'outlaw' and an incorrigible heretic like us to comprehend a little bit of her impossible odyssey into 'nothing.' And how well we now understand her infinite patience with us, despite all our revolts, which ultimately were only the revolts of the old species against itself. The final revolt. 'It is not a revolt against the British government which any one can easily do. It is, in fact, a revolt against the whole universal Nature!' Sri Aurobindo had proclaimed fifty years earlier. She listened to our grievances, we went away and we returned. We wanted no more of it and we wanted still more. It was infernal and sublime, impossible and the sole possibility in this old, asphyxiating world. It was the only place one could go to in this barbedwired, mechanized world, where Cincinnati is just as crowded and polluted as Hong Kong. The new species is the last free place in the general Prison. It is the last hope for the eArth. How we listened to her little faltering voice that seemed to return from afar, afar, after having crossed spaces and seas of the mind to let its little drops of pure, crystalline words fall upon us, words that make you see. We listened to the future, we touched the other thing. It was incomprehensible and yet filled with another comprehension. It eluded us on all sides, and yet it was dazzlingly obvious. The 'other species' was really radically other, and yet it was vibrating within, absolutely recognizable, as if it were THAT we had been seeking from age to age, THAT we had been invoking through all our illuminations, one after another, in Thebes as in Eleusis as everywhere we have toiled and grieved in the skin of a man. It was for THAT we were here, for that supreme Possible in the skin of a man at last. And then her voice grew more and more frail, her breath began gasping as though She had to traverse greater and greater distances to meet us. She was so alone to beat against the walls of the old prison. Many claws were out all around. Oh, we would so quickly have cut ourself free from all this fiasco to fly away with Her into the world's future. She was so tiny, stooped over, as if crushed beneath the 'spiritual' burden that all the old surrounding species kept heaping upon her. They didn't believe, no. For them, She was ninety-five years old + so many days. Can someone become a new species all alone? They even grumbled at Her: they had had enough of this unbearable Ray that was bringing their sordid affairs into the daylight. The Ashram was slowly closing over Her. The old world wanted to make a new, golden little Church, nice and quiet. No, no one wanted TO
  BECOME. To worship was so much easier. And then they bury you, solemnly, and the matter is settled - the case is closed: now, no one need bother any more except to print some photographic haloes for the pilgrims to this brisk little business. But they are mistaken. The real business will take place without them, the new species will fly up in their faces - it is already flying in the face of the eArth, despite all its isms in black and white; it is exploding through all the pores of this battered old eArth, which has had enough of shams - whether illusory little heavens or barbarous little machines.
  It is the hour of the REAL EArth. It is the hour of the REAL man. We are all going there - if only we could know the path a little ...
  This AGENDA is not even a path: it is a light little vibration that seizes you at any turning - and then, there it is, you are IN IT. 'Another world in the world,' She said. One has to catch the light little vibration, one has to flow with it, in a nothing that is like the only something in the midst of this great debacle. At the beginning of things, when still nothing was FIXED, when there was not yet this habit of the pelican or the kangaroo or the chimpanzee or the XXth century biologist, there was a little pulsation that beat and beat - a delightful dizziness, a joy in the world's great adventure; a little never-imprisoned spark that has kept on beating from species to species, but as if it were always eluding us, as if it were always over there, over there - as if it were something to become,
   something to be played forever as the one great game of the world; a who-knows-what that left this sprig of a pensive man in the middle of a clearing; a little 'something' that beats, beats, that keeps on breathing beneath every skin that has ever been put on it - like our deepest breath, our lightest air, our air of nothing - and it keeps on going, it keeps on going. We must catch the light little breath, the little pulsation of nothing. Then suddenly, on the threshold of our clearing of concrete, our head stArts spinning incurably, our eyes blink into something else, and all is different, and all seems surcharged with meaning and with life, as though we had never lived until that very minute.
  Then we have caught the tail of the Great Possible, we are upon the wayless way, radically in the new, and we flow with the little lizard, the pelican, the big man, we flow everywhere in a world that has lost its old separating skin and its little baggage of habits. We begin seeing otherwise, feeling otherwise. We have opened the gate into an inconceivable clearing. Just a light little vibration that carries you away. Then we begin to understand how it CAN CHANGE, what the mechanism is - a light little mechanism and so miraculous that it looks like nothing. We begin feeling the wonder of a pure little cell, and that a sparkling of joy would be enough to turn the world inside out. We were living in a little thinking fishbowl, we were dying in an old, bottled habit. And then suddenly, all is different. The EArth is free! Who wants freedom?
  It begins in a cell.

0.01_-_Life_and_Yoga, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  HERE are two necessities of Nature's workings which seem always to intervene in the greater forms of human activity, whether these belong to our ordinary fields of movement or seek those exceptional spheres and fulfilments which appear to us high and divine. Every such form tends towards a harmonised complexity and totality which again breaks apArt into various channels of special effort and tendency, only to unite once more in a larger and more puissant synthesis. Secondly, development into forms is an imperative rule of effective manifestation; yet all truth and practice too strictly formulated becomes old and loses much, if not all, of its virtue; it must be constantly renovated by fresh streams of the spirit revivifying the dead or dying vehicle and changing it, if it is to acquire a new life. To be perpetually reborn is the condition of a material immortality. We are in an age, full of the throes of travail, when all forms of thought and activity that have in themselves any strong power of utility or any secret virtue of persistence are being subjected to a supreme test and given their opportunity of rebirth. The world today presents the aspect of a huge cauldron of Medea in which all things are being cast, shredded into pieces, experimented on, combined and recombined either to perish and provide the scattered material of new forms or to emerge rejuvenated and changed for a fresh term of existence. Indian Yoga, in its essence a special action or formulation of certain great powers of Nature, itself specialised, divided and variously formulated, is potentially one of these dynamic elements of the future life of humanity. The child of immemorial ages, preserved by its vitality and truth into our modern times, it is now emerging from the secret schools and ascetic retreats in which it had taken refuge and is seeking its place in the future sum of living human powers and utilities. But it has first to rediscover itself, bring to the surface
  In the right view both of life and of Yoga all life is either consciously or subconsciously a Yoga. For we mean by this term a methodised effort towards self-perfection by the expression of the secret potentialities latent in the being and - highest condition of victory in that effort - a union of the human individual with the universal and transcendent Existence we see pArtially expressed in man and in the Cosmos. But all life, when we look behind its appearances, is a vast Yoga of Nature who attempts in the conscious and the subconscious to realise her perfection in an ever-increasing expression of her yet unrealised potentialities and to unite herself with her own divine reality. In man, her thinker, she for the first time upon this EArth devises selfconscious means and willed arrangements of activity by which this great purpose may be more swiftly and puissantly attained.
  Yogic methods have something of the same relation to the customary psychological workings of man as has the scientific handling of the force of electricity or of steam to their normal operations in Nature. And they, too, like the operations of Science, are formed upon a knowledge developed and confirmed by regular experiment, practical analysis and constant result. All
  Rajayoga, for instance, depends on this perception and experience that our inner elements, combinations, functions, forces, can be separated or dissolved, can be new-combined and set to novel and formerly impossible workings or can be transformed and resolved into a new general synthesis by fixed internal processes. Hathayoga similarly depends on this perception and experience that the vital forces and functions to which our life is normally subjected and whose ordinary operations seem set and indispensable, can be mastered and the operations changed or suspended with results that would otherwise be impossible and that seem miraculous to those who have not seized the rationale of their process. And if in some other of its forms this character of Yoga is less apparent, because they are more intuitive and less mechanical, nearer, like the Yoga of Devotion, to a supernal ecstasy or, like the Yoga of Knowledge, to a supernal infinity of consciousness and being, yet they too stArt from the use of some principal faculty in us by ways and for ends not contemplated in its everyday spontaneous workings. All methods grouped under the common name of Yoga are special psychological processes founded on a fixed truth of Nature and developing, out of normal functions, powers and results which were always latent but which her ordinary movements do not easily or do not often manifest.
  But as in physical knowledge the multiplication of scientific processes has its disadvantages, as that tends, for instance, to develop a victorious Artificiality which overwhelms our natural human life under a load of machinery and to purchase certain forms of freedom and mastery at the price of an increased servitude, so the preoccupation with Yogic processes and their exceptional results may have its disadvantages and losses. The

0.02_-_The_Three_Steps_of_Nature, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  But in order that we may be wisely guided in our effort, we must know, first, the general principle and purpose underlying this separative impulse and, next, the pArticular utilities upon which the method of each school of Yoga is founded. For the general principle we must interrogate the universal workings of Nature herself, recognising in her no merely specious and illusive activity of a distorting Maya, but the cosmic energy and working of God Himself in His universal being formulating and inspired by a vast, an infinite and yet a minutely selective
  Wisdom, prajna prasr.ta puran. of the Upanishad, Wisdom that went forth from the Eternal since the beginning. For the pArticular utilities we must cast a penetrative eye on the different methods of Yoga and distinguish among the mass of their details the governing idea which they serve and the radical force which gives birth and energy to their processes of effectuation.
  The progressive self-manifestation of Nature in man, termed in modern language his evolution, must necessarily depend upon three successive elements. There is that which is already evolved; there is that which, still imperfect, still pArtly fluid, is persistently in the stage of conscious evolution; and there is that which is to be evolved and may perhaps be already
  That which Nature has evolved for us and has firmly founded is the bodily life. She has effected a certain combination and harmony of the two inferior but most fundamentally necessary elements of our action and progress upon eArth, -
  Matter, which, however the too ethereally spiritual may despise it, is our foundation and the first condition of all our energies and realisations, and the Life-Energy which is our means of existence in a material body and the basis there even of our mental and spiritual activities. She has successfully achieved a certain stability of her constant material movement which is at once sufficiently steady and durable and sufficiently pliable and mutable to provide a fit dwelling-place and instrument for the progressively manifesting god in humanity. This is what is meant by the fable in the Aitareya Upanishad which tells us that the gods rejected the animal forms successively offered to them by the Divine Self and only when man was produced, cried out, "This indeed is perfectly made," and consented to enter in. She has effected also a working compromise between the inertia of matter and the active Life that lives in and feeds on it, by which not only is vital existence sustained, but the fullest developments of mentality are rendered possible. This equilibrium constitutes the basic status of Nature in man and is termed in the language of Yoga his gross body composed
   of the material or food sheath and the nervous system or vital vehicle.1
  If, then, this inferior equilibrium is the basis and first means of the higher movements which the universal Power contemplates and if it constitutes the vehicle in which the Divine here seeks to reveal Itself, if the Indian saying is true that the body is the instrument provided for the fulfilment of the right law of our nature, then any final recoil from the physical life must be a turning away from the completeness of the divine Wisdom and a renunciation of its aim in eArthly manifestation. Such a refusal may be, owing to some secret law of their development, the right attitude for certain individuals, but never the aim intended for mankind. It can be, therefore, no integral Yoga which ignores the body or makes its annulment or its rejection indispensable to a perfect spirituality. Rather, the perfecting of the body also should be the last triumph of the Spirit and to make the bodily life also divine must be God's final seal upon His work in the universe. The obstacle which the physical presents to the spiritual is no argument for the rejection of the physical; for in the unseen providence of things our greatest difficulties are our best opportunities. A supreme difficulty is Nature's indication to us of a supreme conquest to be won and an ultimate problem to be solved; it is not a warning of an inextricable snare to be shunned or of an enemy too strong for us from whom we must flee.
  Equally, the vital and nervous energies in us are there for a great utility; they too demand the divine realisation of their possibilities in our ultimate fulfilment. The great pArt assigned to this element in the universal scheme is powerfully emphasised by the catholic wisdom of the Upanishads. "As the spokes of a wheel in its nave, so in the Life-Energy is all established, the triple knowledge and the Sacrifice and the power of the strong and the purity of the wise. Under the control of the LifeEnergy is all this that is established in the triple heaven."2 It is therefore no integral Yoga that kills these vital energies, forces them into a nerveless quiescence or roots them out as the source
   common possession. In actual appearance it would seem as if it were only developed to the fullest in individuals and as if there were great numbers and even the majority in whom it is either a small and ill-organised pArt of their normal nature or not evolved at all or latent and not easily made active.
  Moreover the whole trend of modern thought and modern endeavour reveals itself to the observant eye as a large conscious effort of Nature in man to effect a general level of intellectual equipment, capacity and fArther possibility by universalising the opportunities which modern civilisation affords for the mental life. Even the preoccupation of the European intellect, the protagonist of this tendency, with material Nature and the externalities of existence is a necessary pArt of the effort. It seeks to prepare a sufficient basis in man's physical being and vital energies and in his material environment for his full mental possibilities. By the spread of education, by the advance of the backward races, by the elevation of depressed classes, by the multiplication of labour-saving appliances, by the movement
  And when the preliminary conditions are satisfied, when the great endeavour has found its base, what will be the nature of that fArther possibility which the activities of the intellectual life must serve? If Mind is indeed Nature's highest term, then the entire development of the rational and imaginative intellect and the harmonious satisfaction of the emotions and sensibilities must be to themselves sufficient. But if, on the contrary, man is more than a reasoning and emotional animal, if beyond that which is being evolved, there is something that has to be evolved, then it may well be that the fullness of the mental life, the suppleness, flexibility and wide capacity of the intellect, the ordered richness of emotion and sensibility may be only a passage towards the development of a higher life and of more powerful faculties which are yet to manifest and to take possession of the lower instrument, just as mind itself has so taken possession of the body that the physical being no longer lives only for its own satisfaction but provides the foundation and the materials for a superior activity.
  Yoga, the inner instrument.4 And Indian tradition asserts that this which is to be manifested is not a new term in human experience, but has been developed before and has even governed humanity in certain periods of its development. In any case, in order to be known it must at one time have been pArtly developed.
  The only approximate terms in the English language have other associations and their use may lead to many and even serious inaccuracies. The terminology of Yoga recognises besides the status of our physical and vital being, termed the gross body and doubly composed of the food sheath and the vital vehicle, besides the status of our mental being, termed the subtle body and singly composed of the mind sheath or mental vehicle,5 a third, supreme and divine status of supra-mental being, termed the causal body and composed of a fourth and a fifth vehicle6 which are described as those of knowledge and bliss. But this knowledge is not a systematised result of mental questionings and reasonings, not a temporary arrangement of conclusions and opinions in the terms of the highest probability, but rather a pure self-existent and self-luminous Truth. And this bliss is not a supreme pleasure of the heArt and sensations with the experience of pain and sorrow as its background, but a delight also selfexistent and independent of objects and pArticular experiences, a self-delight which is the very nature, the very stuff, as it were, of a transcendent and infinite existence.
  The immanence itself would have no credible reason for being if it did not end in such a transfiguration. But if human mind can become capable of the glories of the divine Light, human emotion and sensibility can be transformed into the mould and assume the measure and movement of the supreme Bliss, human action not only represent but feel itself to be the motion of a divine and non-egoistic Force and the physical substance of our being sufficiently pArtake of the purity of the supernal essence, sufficiently unify plasticity and durable constancy to support and prolong these highest experiences and agencies, then all the long labour of Nature will end in a crowning justification and her evolutions reveal their profound significance.
  We perceive, then, these three steps in Nature, a bodily life which is the basis of our existence here in the material world, a mental life into which we emerge and by which we raise the bodily to higher uses and enlarge it into a greater completeness, and a divine existence which is at once the goal of the other two and returns upon them to liberate them into their highest possibilities. Regarding none of them as either beyond our reach or below our nature and the destruction of none of them as essential to the ultimate attainment, we accept this liberation and fulfilment as pArt at least and a large and important pArt of the aim of Yoga.

0.02_-_Topographical_Note, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Topographical Note
  From the time of Sri Aurobindo's depArture (1950) until 1957, we have only a few notes and fragments or rare statements noted from memory. These are the only landmarks of this period, along with Mother's Questions and Answers from her talks at the Ashram Playground. A few of these conversations have been reproduced here insofar as they mark stages of the Supramental
  It was only in 1958 that we began having the first tape-recorded conversations, which, properly speaking, constitute Mother's Agenda. But even then, many of these conversations were lost or only pArtly noted down. Or else we considered that our own words should not figure in these notes and we carefully omitted all our questions - which was absurd. At that time, no one - neither Mother, nor ourself - knew that this was 'the Agenda' and that we were out to explore the 'Great Passage.'
  Only gradually did we become aware of the true nature of these meetings. Furthermore, we were constantly on the road, so much so that there are sizable gaps in the text. In fact, for seven years,

0.03_-_1951-1957._Notes_and_Fragments, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  February 1951
  (Note written by hand two months after Sri Aurobindo's depArture)
  The lack of the eArth's receptivity and the behavior of Sri Aurobindo's disciples 1 are largely responsible for what happened to his body. But one thing is certain: the great misfortune that has just beset us in no way affects the truth of his teaching. All he said is perfectly true and remains so.

0.03_-_The_Threefold_Life, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  For man, the head of terrestrial Nature, the sole eArthly frame in which her full evolution is possible, is a triple birth. He has been given a living frame in which the body is the vessel and life the dynamic means of a divine manifestation. His activity is centred in a progressive mind which aims at perfecting itself as well as the house in which it dwells and the means of life that it uses, and is capable of awaking by a progressive self-realisation to its own true nature as a form of the Spirit. He culminates in what he always really was, the illumined and beatific spirit which is intended at last to irradiate life and mind with its now concealed splendours.
   condemned to be limited, irrationally conservative and eArthbound. The customary routine, the customary institutions, the inherited or habitual forms of thought, - these things are the life-breath of their nostrils. They admit and jealously defend the changes compelled by the progressive mind in the past, but combat with equal zeal the changes that are being made by it in the present. For to the material man the living progressive thinker is an ideologue, dreamer or madman. The old Semites who stoned the living prophets and adored their memories when dead, were the very incarnation of this instinctive and unintelligent principle in Nature. In the ancient Indian distinction between the once born and the twice born, it is to this material man that the former description can be applied. He does
  Nature's inferior works; he assures the basis for her higher activities; but not to him easily are opened the glories of her second birth.
  Nevertheless it is possible to make the material man and his life moderately progressive by imprinting on the material mind the custom of progress, the habit of conscious change, the fixed idea of progression as a law of life. The creation by this means of progressive societies in Europe is one of the greatest triumphs of Mind over Matter. But the physical nature has its revenge; for the progress made tends to be of the grosser and more outward kind and its attempts at a higher or a more rapid movement bring about great wearinesses, swift exhaustions, stArtling recoils.
  The mental life concentrates on the aesthetic, the ethical and the intellectual activities. Essential mentality is idealistic and a seeker after perfection. The subtle self, the brilliant Atman,1 is ever a dreamer. A dream of perfect beauty, perfect conduct, perfect Truth, whether seeking new forms of the Eternal or revitalising the old, is the very soul of pure mentality. But it knows not how to deal with the resistance of Matter. There it is hampered and inefficient, works by bungling experiments and has either to withdraw from the struggle or submit to the grey actuality. Or else, by studying the material life and accepting the conditions of the contest, it may succeed, but only in imposing temporarily some Artificial system which infinite Nature either rends and casts aside or disfigures out of recognition or by withdrawing her assent leaves as the corpse of a dead ideal. Few and far between have been those realisations of the dreamer in Man which the world has gladly accepted, looks back to with a fond memory and seeks, in its elements, to cherish.
  When the gulf between actual life and the temperament of the thinker is too great, we see as the result a sort of withdrawing of the Mind from life in order to act with a greater freedom in its own sphere. The poet living among his brilliant visions, the Artist absorbed in his Art, the philosopher thinking out the problems of the intellect in his solitary chamber, the scientist, the scholar caring only for their studies and their experiments, were often in former days, are even now not unoften the Sannyasins of the intellect. To the work they have done for humanity, all its past bears record.
  Mind finds fully its force and action only when it casts itself upon life and accepts equally its possibilities and its resistances as the means of a greater self-perfection. In the struggle with the difficulties of the material world the ethical development of the individual is firmly shaped and the great schools of conduct are formed; by contact with the facts of life Art attains to vitality, Thought assures its abstractions, the generalisations of the philosopher base themselves on a stable foundation of science and experience.
  The Conditions of the Synthesis
   also to the alteration of the forms of our life and its institutions so that they too may be a better mould for the inpourings of the Spirit. These attempts have been the supreme landmarks in the progressive development of human ideals and the divine preparation of the race. Every one of them, whatever its outward results, has left EArth more capable of Heaven and quickened in its tardy movements the evolutionary Yoga of Nature.
  The schools of Indian Yoga lent themselves to the compromise. Individual perfection or liberation was made the aim, seclusion of some kind from the ordinary activities the condition, the renunciation of life the culmination. The teacher gave his knowledge only to a small circle of disciples. Or if a wider movement was attempted, it was still the release of the individual soul that remained the aim. The pact with an immobile society was, for the most pArt, observed.
   world cannot be doubted. It secured in India a society which lent itself to the preservation and the worship of spirituality, a country apArt in which as in a fortress the highest spiritual ideal could maintain itself in its most absolute purity unoverpowered by the siege of the forces around it. But it was a compromise, not an absolute victory. The material life lost the divine impulse to growth, the spiritual preserved by isolation its height and purity, but sacrificed its full power and serviceableness to the world. Therefore, in the divine Providence the country of the
  Yogins and the Sannyasins has been forced into a strict and imperative contact with the very element it had rejected, the element of the progressive Mind, so that it might recover what was now wanting to it.

0.04_-_1951-1954, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  March 14, 1952
  Since the beginning of the eArth wherever and whenever there was the possibility of manifesting a ray of consciousness, I was there.2
  To deny or affirm God's existence is equally true, but each is only pArtially true. It is by rising above both affirmation and negation that one may draw nearer the truth.
  Whenever a god has donned a body, it was always with the intention of transforming the eArth and creating a new world. Yet until now, he always had to give up his body without being able to complete his work; and it has always been said that the eArth was not ready, that mankind did not fulfill the conditions necessary for the work to be accomplished.
  (Further experiences of the body consciousness7 )
  When we look back upon our lives, we almost always feel that in some circumstance or other we could have done better, even though at each minute the action was dictated by the inner truth this is because the universe is in perpetual motion, and what was perfectly true at one time is only pArtly so today. Or, to express it more precisely, the action necessary at the time it was carried out is no longer so at the present time, and another action might more fruitfully take its place.
  The two experiences are simultaneous, one does not negate the other; on the contrary, they seem to complement each other and become intenser thereby. In this intensity, the aspiration grows tremendously; and in response, Your presence becomes evident in the cells, giving the body the appearance of a multicolored kaleidoscope whose myriad luminous pArticles in constant motion are sovereignly reorganized by an invisible, all-powerful Hand.
   down and have not stood out in front with so much prominence in the evolution of the eArth-spirit.
  I knew you would ask me this question because it is indeed the most interesting thing in the whole passage - so my answer is ready, along with my answer to another question. But first let me read you this one. You asked, 'What is this Personality and when will She come?' Here is my answer (Mother reads):
  'She has come, bringing with Her a splendor of power and love, an intensity of divine joy heretofore unknown to the EArth. The physical atmosphere has been completely changed by her descent, permeated with new and marvelous possibilities.
  But the vibrations of divine Bliss and those of pleasure cannot cohabit in the same vital and physical house. We must therefore TOTALLY renounce all feelings of pleasure to be ready to receive the divine Ananda. But rare are those who can renounce pleasure without thereby renouncing all active pArticipation in life or sinking into a stern asceticism. And among those who realize that the transformation is to be wrought in active life, some pretend that pleasure is a form of Ananda gone more or less astray and legitimize their search for self-satisfaction, thereby creating a virtually insuperable obstacle to their own transformation.'
  Now, if there is anything else you wish to ask me ... Anyone may ask, anyone - anyone who has something to say - not just the students.
  This is borne out by the fact that her descent took place at a given moment and for two or three weeks the atmosphere - not only of the Ashram but of the EArth - was so highly charged with such a power of such an intense divine Bliss creating so marvelous a force that things difficult to do before could be done almost instantly.
  Oh! ... But you see, from an occult standpoint, it is a selection. From an external standpoint you could say that there are people in the world who are far superior to you (and I would not disagree!), but from an occult standpoint, it is a selection. There are ... It can be said that without a doubt the
   majority of young people here have come because it was promised them that they would be present at the Hour of Realization - but they just don't remember it! (Mother laughs) I have already said several times that when you come down on eArth, you fall on your head, which leaves you a little dazed! (laughter) It's a pity, but after all, you don't have to remain dazed all your lives, do you?
  You should go deep within yourselves and there find the immortal consciousness - then you can see very well, you can very clearly remember the circumstances in which you ... you aspired to be here for the Hour of the Work's realization.
  Mother, previously things were very strict in the Ashram, but not now. Why?
  Yes, I have always said that it changed when we had to take the very little children. How can you envision an ascetic life with little sprouts no bigger than that? It's impossible! But that's the little surprise package the war left on our doorstep. When it was found that Pondicherry was the safest place on eArth, naturally people came wheeling in here with all their baby carriages filled and asked us if we could shelter them, so we couldn't very well turn them away, could we?! That's how it happened, and in no other way ... But, in the beginning, the first condition for coming here was that you would have nothing more to do with your family! If a man was married, then he had to completely overlook the fact that he had a wife and children - completely sever all ties, have nothing further to do with them. And if ever a wife asked to come just because her husband happened to be here, we told her, 'You have no business coming here!'
  In the beginning, it was very, very strict - for a long time.
  But as I said, bit by bit ... things changed. However, this had one advantage: we were too much outside of life. So there were a number of problems which had never arisen but which would have suddenly surged up the moment we wanted a complete manifestation. We took on all these problems a little prematurely, but it gave us the opportunity to solve them. In this way we learned many things and surmounted many difficulties, only it complicated things considerably. And in the present situation, given such a large number of elements who haven't even the slightest idea why they're here (! ) ... well, it demands a far greater effort on the disciples' pArt than before.
  Before, when there were ... we stArted with 35 or 36 people - but even when it got up to 150, even with 150 - it was as if ... they were all nestled in a cocoon in my consciousness: they were so near to me that I could constantly guide ALL their inner or outer movements. Day and night, at each moment, everything was totally under my control. And naturally, I think they made a great deal of progress at that time: it is a fact that I was CONSTANTLY doing the sadhana10 for them. But then, with this baby boom ... The sadhana can't be done for little sprouts who are 3 or 4 or 5 years old!
  10Sadhana: yogic discipline or effort.
  It's out of the question. The only thing I can do is wrap them in the Consciousness and try to see that they grow up in the best of all possible conditions. However, the one advantage to all this is that instead of there being such a COMPLETE and PASSIVE dependence on the disciples' pArt, each one has to make his own little effort. Truly, that's excellent.
  Tell us, Mother - we really want to know, Sweet Mother!
  For Her, this body is but one instrument among so many others in an eternity of ages to come, and for Her its only importance is that attributed to it by the EArth and mankind - the extent to which it can be used as a channel to further Her manifestation. If I find myself surrounded by people who are incapable of receiving Her, then for Her, I am quite useless.

0.04_-_The_Systems_of_Yoga, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Nature and climbs beyond her. For the aim of the Universal
  Mother is to embrace the Divine in her own play and creations and there to realise It. But in the highest flights of Yoga she reaches beyond herself and realises the Divine in Itself exceeding the universe and even standing apArt from the cosmic play.
  Yet it is always through something which she has formed in her evolution that Nature thus overpasses her evolution. It is the individual heArt that by sublimating its highest and purest emotions attains to the transcendent Bliss or the ineffable Nirvana, the individual mind that by converting its ordinary functionings into a knowledge beyond mentality knows its oneness with the
  Ineffable and merges its separate existence in that transcendent unity. And always it is the individual, the Self conditioned in its experience by Nature and working through her formations, that attains to the Self unconditioned, free and transcendent.
  In practice three conceptions are necessary before there can be any possibility of Yoga; there must be, as it were, three consenting pArties to the effort, - God, Nature and the human soul or, in more abstract language, the Transcendental, the Universal
   those functionings which determine the state and the experiences of our nervous being; through the mentality, whether by means of the emotional heArt, the active will or the understanding mind, or more largely by a general conversion of the mental consciousness in all its activities. It may equally be accomplished through a direct awakening to the universal or transcendent Truth and
  Bliss by the conversion of the central ego in the mind. And according to the point of contact that we choose will be the type of the Yoga that we practise.
  For if, leaving aside the complexities of their pArticular processes, we fix our regard on the central principle of the chief schools of Yoga still prevalent in India, we find that they arrange themselves in an ascending order which stArts from the lowest rung of the ladder, the body, and ascends to the direct contact between the individual soul and the transcendent and universal
  Self. Hathayoga selects the body and the vital functionings as its instruments of perfection and realisation; its concern is with the gross body. Rajayoga selects the mental being in its different pArts as its lever-power; it concentrates on the subtle body. The triple Path of Works, of Love and of Knowledge uses some pArt of the mental being, will, heArt or intellect as a stArting-point and seeks by its conversion to arrive at the liberating Truth,
  Beatitude and Infinity which are the nature of the spiritual life.
  These advantages can be fArther secured and emphasised by other subsidiary processes open to the Hathayogin.
  The results of Hathayoga are thus striking to the eye and impose easily on the vulgar or physical mind. And yet at the end we may ask what we have gained at the end of all this stupendous labour. The object of physical Nature, the preservation of the mere physical life, its highest perfection, even in a certain sense the capacity of a greater enjoyment of physical living have been carried out on an abnormal scale. But the weakness of Hathayoga is that its laborious and difficult processes make so great a demand on the time and energy and impose so complete a severance from the ordinary life of men that the utilisation of its results for the life of the world becomes either impracticable or is extraordinarily restricted. If in return for this loss we gain another life in another world within, the mental, the dynamic, these results could have been acquired through other systems, through Rajayoga, through Tantra, by much less laborious methods and held on much less exacting terms. On the other hand the physical results, increased vitality, prolonged youth, health, longevity are of small avail if they must be held by us as misers of ourselves, apArt from the common life, for their own sake, not utilised, not thrown into the common sum of the world's activities. Hathayoga attains large results, but at an exorbitant price and to very little purpose.
   the powers of disorder. The preliminary movement of Rajayoga is a careful self-discipline by which good habits of mind are substituted for the lawless movements that indulge the lower nervous being. By the practice of truth, by renunciation of all forms of egoistic seeking, by abstention from injury to others, by purity, by constant meditation and inclination to the divine
  Purusha who is the true lord of the mental kingdom, a pure, glad, clear state of mind and heArt is established.
  The triple Path of devotion, knowledge and works attempts the province which Rajayoga leaves unoccupied. It differs from
  Rajayoga in that it does not occupy itself with the elaborate training of the whole mental system as the condition of perfection, but seizes on certain central principles, the intellect, the heArt, the will, and seeks to convert their normal operations by turning them away from their ordinary and external preoccupations and activities and concentrating them on the Divine. It
  The Conditions of the Synthesis
   differs also in this, - and here from the point of view of an integral Yoga there seems to be a defect, - that it is indifferent to mental and bodily perfection and aims only at purity as a condition of the divine realisation. A second defect is that as actually practised it chooses one of the three parallel paths exclusively and almost in antagonism to the others instead of effecting a synthetic harmony of the intellect, the heArt and the will in an integral divine realisation.
  But this exclusive consummation is not the sole or inevitable result of the Path of Knowledge. For, followed more largely and with a less individual aim, the method of Knowledge may lead to an active conquest of the cosmic existence for the Divine no less than to a transcendence. The point of this depArture is the realisation of the supreme Self not only in one's own being but in all beings and, finally, the realisation of even the phenomenal aspects of the world as a play of the divine consciousness and not something entirely alien to its true nature. And on the basis of this realisation a yet further enlargement is possible, the conversion of all forms of knowledge, however mundane, into activities of the divine consciousness utilisable for the perception of the one and unique Object of knowledge both in itself and through the play of its forms and symbols. Such a method might well lead to the elevation of the whole range of human intellect
  Karmayoga is used, like the other paths, to lead to liberation from phenomenal existence and a depArture into the Supreme.
  But here too the exclusive result is not inevitable. The end of the path may be, equally, a perception of the Divine in all energies, in all happenings, in all activities, and a free and unegoistic pArticipation of the soul in the cosmic action. So followed it will lead to the elevation of all human will and activity to the divine level, its spiritualisation and the justification of the cosmic labour towards freedom, power and perfection in the human being.

0.05_-_1955, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  I am not so absurdly pretentious as to blame the divine, nor yourself - and I remain quite convinced that all this is my own fault. Undoubtedly I have not known how to surrender totally in some pArt of myself, or I do not aspire enough or know how to 'open' myself as needed. Also, I should rely entirely upon the divine to take care of my progress and not be concerned about the absence of experiences. I have therefore asked myself why I am so far away from the true attitude, the genuine opening, and I see two main reasons: on the one hand, the difficulties inherent in my
  14Mahakali: the eternal Mother in her warrior aspect, She who severs the heads of the demons.
  Ashram (the very fact of working - for to change work, even if I felt like it, would not change the overall situation), diverts me from this divine consciousness, or at least keeps me in a superficial consciousness from which I am unable to 'unglue' myself as long as I am busy writing letters, doing translations, corrections or classes.16 I know it's my own fault, that I 'should' know how to be detached from my work and do it by relying upon a deeper consciousness, but what can be done?
  Unless I receive the grace, I cannot 'remember' the essential thing as long as the outer pArt of my being is active.
  Yoga, which is meant to include life, is so difficult that one should come to it only after having already established the solid base of a concrete divine realization. That is why I want to ask you if I should not 'withdraw' for a certain time, to Almora, 18 for example, to Brewster's place,19 to live in solitude, silence, meditation, far away from people, work and temptations, until a beginning of
  Light and Realization is concretized in me. Once this solid base is acquired, it would be easier for me to resume my work and the struggle here for the true transformation of the outer being. But to want to transform this outer being without having fully illumined the inner being seems to me to be putting the cArt before the horse, or at least condemning myself to a pitiless and endless battle in which the best of my forces are fruitlessly consumed.
  19An American Artist, an old friend of D.H. Lawrence, and Satprem's friend.
  My dear child,
  No doubt it would be better to go to Almora for a while - not for too long, I hope, for it is needless to say how much the work will be disrupted by this depArture ...
  Mother, it is an impossible, absurd, unlivable life. I feel as though I have no hand in this cruel little game. Oh Mother, why doesn't your grace trust that deep pArt in me which knows so well that you are the Truth? Deliver me from these evil forces since, profoundly, it is you and you alone I want. Give me the aspiration and strength I do not have. If you do not do this Yoga for me, I feel I shall never have the strength to go on.
  My dear child,
  Your case is not unique; there are others (and among the best and the most faithful) who are likewise a veritable battlefield for the forces opposing the advent of the truth. They feel powerless in this battle, sorrowful witnesses, victims without the strength to fight, for this is taking place in that pArt of the physical consciousness where the supramental forces are not yet fully active, although I am confident they soon will be. Meanwhile, the only remedy is to endure, to go through this suffering and to await patiently the hour of liberation.
  No matter where I concentrate, in my heArt, above my head, between my eyes, I bang everywhere into an unyielding wall; I no longer know which way to turn, what I must do, say, pray in order to be freed from all this at last. Mother, I know that I am not making all the effort I should, but help me to make this effort, I implore your grace. I need so much to find at last this solid rock upon which to lean, this space of light where finally I may seek refuge. Mother, open the psychic being in me, open me to your sole Light which I need so much. Without your grace, I can only turn in circles, hopelessly. O Mother, may I live in you.
  Pondicherry, September 15, 1955
  Mother ... suddenly everything seems to have crystallized - all the little revolts, the little tensions, the ill will and petty vital demands - forming a single block of open, determined resistance. I have become conscious that from the beginning of my sadhana, the mind has led the game - with the psychic behind - and has 'held me in leash,' helped muzzle all contrary movements, but at no time, or only rarely, has the vital submitted or opened to the higher influence. The rare times when the vital pArticipated, I felt a great progress. But now, I find myself in front of this solid mass that says
  'No' and is not at all convinced of what the mind has been imposing upon it for almost two years now.
  Mother, I am sufficiently awakened not to rebel against your Light and to understand that the vital is but one pArt of my being, but I have come to the conclusion that the only way of
  'convincing' this vital is not to force or stifle it, but to let it go through its own experience so it may understand by itself that it cannot be satisfied in this way. I feel the need to leave the Ashram for a while to see how I can get along away from here - and to realize, no doubt, that one can really breathe only here.
  Mother, I would like at the same time to be your child and to leave!! All this is tearing me apArt.
  Mother, never before have I felt with such force how much you are pArt of me, nor how much I belong to you, irreversibly. And this I felt not only in my mind or even in my heArt, but physically.
  I believed I had committed a spiritual 'error' by leaving the Ashram. But now it seems to me that this experience was necessary, for it put me glaringly in the presence of my life's Meaning and its profound Reality. In a way, I needed to 'objectify' my presence in the Ashram, to see it from the outside. Not that I believe these to be good or even bad reasons to mentally justify this flight, but I see no other reason for this depArture. And I find myself here without any need to satisfy the least desire, as if all these worldly 'pleasures' no longer awaken anything at all in me. Your grace is there, surely. The only experience I have had is smoking opium. Before, I found it very refined and calming, but this time I found only stomach cramps and a joyless vapidity. It is strange, but I feel that nothing has a hold on me any longer and the only people who seem to be really living are those in the Ashram. The others, on the contrary, are only pretending and are all completely outside of life, however paradoxical that might appear.
  Mother, I know now what the word 'consecration' means. I want to consecrate myself wholly to your work, with my heArt, my mind, my body and my soul. I belong to you irrevocably, unreservedly. I know that nothing else exists in the world that is worthy of being lived, except you.

0.05_-_The_Synthesis_of_the_Systems, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Y THE very nature of the principal Yogic schools, each covering in its operations a pArt of the complex human integer and attempting to bring out its highest possibilities, it will appear that a synthesis of all of them largely conceived and applied might well result in an integral Yoga. But they are so disparate in their tendencies, so highly specialised and elaborated in their forms, so long confirmed in the mutual opposition of their ideas and methods that we do not easily find how we can arrive at their right union.
  An undiscriminating combination in block would not be a synthesis, but a confusion. Nor would a successive practice of each of them in turn be easy in the short span of our human life and with our limited energies, to say nothing of the waste of labour implied in so cumbrous a process. Sometimes, indeed,
  Hathayoga and Rajayoga are thus successively practised. And in a recent unique example, in the life of Ramakrishna Paramhansa, we see a colossal spiritual capacity first driving straight to the divine realisation, taking, as it were, the kingdom of heaven by violence, and then seizing upon one Yogic method after another and extracting the substance out of it with an incredible rapidity, always to return to the heArt of the whole matter, the realisation and possession of God by the power of love, by the extension of inborn spirituality into various experience and by the spontaneous play of an intuitive knowledge. Such an example cannot be generalised. Its object also was special and temporal, to exemplify in the great and decisive experience of a master-soul the truth, now most necessary to humanity, towards which a world long divided into jarring sects and schools is with difficulty labouring, that all sects are forms and fragments of a single integral truth and all disciplines labour in their different ways towards one supreme experience. To know, be and possess
  The synthesis we propose cannot, then, be arrived at either by combination in mass or by successive practice. It must therefore be effected by neglecting the forms and outsides of the
  Yogic disciplines and seizing rather on some central principle common to all which will include and utilise in the right place and proportion their pArticular principles, and on some central dynamic force which is the common secret of their divergent methods and capable therefore of organising a natural selection and combination of their varied energies and different utilities.
  We observe, first, that there still exists in India a remarkable
  Yogic system which is in its nature synthetical and stArts from a great central principle of Nature, a great dynamic force of
  Nature; but it is a Yoga apArt, not a synthesis of other schools.
  This system is the way of the Tantra. Owing to certain of its developments Tantra has fallen into discredit with those who are not Tantrics; and especially owing to the developments of its left-hand path, the Vama Marga, which not content with exceeding the duality of virtue and sin and instead of replacing them by spontaneous rightness of action seemed, sometimes, to make a method of self-indulgence, a method of unrestrained social immorality. Nevertheless, in its origin, Tantra was a great and puissant system founded upon ideas which were at least pArtially true. Even its twofold division into the right-hand and left-hand paths, Dakshina Marga and Vama Marga, stArted from a certain profound perception. In the ancient symbolic sense of the words Dakshina and Vama, it was the distinction between the way of Knowledge and the way of Ananda, - Nature in man liberating itself by right discrimination in power and practice of its own energies, elements and potentialities and Nature in man
  If, however, we leave aside, here also, the actual methods and practices and seek for the central principle, we find, first, that Tantra expressly differentiates itself from the Vedic methods of Yoga. In a sense, all the schools we have hitherto examined are Vedantic in their principle; their force is in knowledge, their method is knowledge, though it is not always discernment by the intellect, but may be, instead, the knowledge of the heArt expressed in love and faith or a knowledge in the will working out through action. In all of them the lord of the Yoga is the Purusha, the Conscious Soul that knows, observes, attracts, governs. But in Tantra it is rather Prakriti, the Nature-Soul, the Energy, the
  Will-in-Power executive in the universe. It was by learning and applying the intimate secrets of this Will-in-Power, its method, its Tantra, that the Tantric Yogin pursued the aims of his discipline, - mastery, perfection, liberation, beatitude. Instead of drawing back from manifested Nature and its difficulties, he confronted them, seized and conquered. But in the end, as is the general tendency of Prakriti, Tantric Yoga largely lost its principle in its machinery and became a thing of formulae and occult mechanism still powerful when rightly used but fallen from the clarity of their original intention.
  We see, then, what from the psychological point of view,
  - and Yoga is nothing but practical psychology, - is the conception of Nature from which we have to stArt. It is the selffulfilment of the Purusha through his Energy. But the movement of Nature is twofold, higher and lower, or, as we may choose to term it, divine and undivine. The distinction exists indeed for practical purposes only; for there is nothing that is not divine, and in a larger view it is as meaningless, verbally, as the distinction between natural and supernatural, for all things that are are natural. All things are in Nature and all things are in God.
  But in either case it is always through something in the lower that we must rise into the higher existence, and the schools of
  Yoga each select their own point of depArture or their own gate of escape. They specialise certain activities of the lower
  Prakriti and turn them towards the Divine. But the normal action of Nature in us is an integral movement in which the full complexity of all our elements is affected by and affects all our environments. The whole of life is the Yoga of Nature. The
  In psychological fact this method translates itself into the progressive surrender of the ego with its whole field and all its apparatus to the Beyond-ego with its vast and incalculable but always inevitable workings. Certainly, this is no short cut or easy sadhana. It requires a colossal faith, an absolute courage and above all an unflinching patience. For it implies three stages of which only the last can be wholly blissful or rapid, - the attempt of the ego to enter into contact with the Divine, the wide, full and therefore laborious preparation of the whole lower Nature by the divine working to receive and become the higher Nature, and the eventual transformation. In fact, however, the divine
  Strength, often unobserved and behind the veil, substitutes itself for our weakness and supports us through all our failings of faith, courage and patience. It "makes the blind to see and the lame to stride over the hills." The intellect becomes aware of a Law that beneficently insists and a succour that upholds; the heArt speaks of a Master of all things and Friend of man or a universal Mother who upholds through all stumblings. Therefore this path is at once the most difficult imaginable and yet, in comparison with the magnitude of its effort and object, the most easy and sure of all.
  Everything in us is seized by the hands of a mighty Artificer and transformed into a clear image of that which it now seeks confusedly to present. In that ever-progressive experience we begin to perceive how this lower manifestation is constituted and that everything in it, however seemingly deformed or petty or vile, is the more or less distorted or imperfect figure of some element or action in the harmony of the divine Nature. We begin to understand what the Vedic Rishis meant when they spoke of the human forefathers fashioning the gods as a smith forges the crude material in his smithy.
  Therefore, also, an integral liberation. Not only the freedom born of unbroken contact and identification of the individual being in all its pArts with the Divine, sayujya-mukti, by which it can become free2 even in its separation, even in the duality; not only the salokya-mukti by which the whole conscious existence dwells in the same status of being as the Divine, in the state of
  Sachchidananda; but also the acquisition of the divine nature by the transformation of this lower being into the human image of the Divine, sadharmya-mukti, and the complete and final release of all, the liberation of the consciousness from the transitory mould of the ego and its unification with the One Being, universal both in the world and the individual and transcendentally one both in the world and beyond all universe.
   functioning of the complex instrument we are in our outer pArts, is the condition of an integral liberty. Its result is an integral beatitude, in which there becomes possible at once the Ananda of all that is in the world seen as symbols of the Divine and the Ananda of that which is not-world. And it prepares the integral perfection of our humanity as a type of the Divine in the conditions of the human manifestation, a perfection founded on a certain free universality of being, of love and joy, of play of knowledge and of play of will in power and will in unegoistic action. This integrality also can be attained by the integral Yoga.

0.06_-_1956, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  All Artistic creation is born of a question, a conflict, a discord with oneself, mankind or the cosmos.
  What painter, what poet, what writer has not wrenched from this conflict the best of his Art, from
  Michelangelo to Goya, from Van Gogh to Rodin, from Villon to Rimbaud, Baudelaire or
  Dostoevski? And the work of Art - the painting, novel or poem - is a harmony torn from this disharmony, a conquest over some chaos, a response to a question posed by man - a metamorphosis.
  Artistic creation relies upon that which is most unique in man, most singular with respect to others, and it is through this singular uniqueness that the Artist achieves his metamorphosis, his recreation of the world; it is through this that he seeks to commune with others, himself and the world.
  So when an answer has been given to every question, what place remains for the work of Art?
  When all is metamorphosized through Transcendence, what place remains for Artistic metamorphosis? When all is supreme harmony, can this harmony be expressed otherwise than through silence, a smile, a radiance or 'inspired' poetry - of which Sri Aurobindo is the sole example; even so, his poetry is not drawn from the human level, it surpasses the human, it issues from elsewhere.
  Must Artistic creation cease being human, then; must it cease relying upon the human? - which
   would then mean having to reject so many undeniably great painters, poets or writers? Must one wait to be open to the supramental planes of consciousness before being able to reconcile (assuming such reconciliation is possible) yoga and Artistic creation? And, until then, smother all that sustains the creative elan, i.e. the individual, the conflict, that pArt of oneself which every creator feels to be the purest human pArt? Must one extinguish in oneself this play of light and shadow from which Art derives its highest accents?
  Signed: Bernard
  Mother, I need to unburden myself of all that is wringing my heArt, and if the Divine exists somewhere, it is to him that I would like to express my profound disgust. For all this is profoundly scandalous, absurd and revolting. I know that the external world is absurd and that men live in it vainly; but the world of the Ashram is no less absurd, no less vain. 'Someone' is making fun of us,
  'someone' is deceiving us - for if truly there is some witness to this tragi-comedy and if this whole world is his 'game,' it is a cruel game and he is a cheater, for he has all the cards in his hand and he pretends to make us play a game in which we are inevitably the losers - a game we cannot play, for we are helpless miserable, without strength, without light.
  Then the supramental Light and Force and Consciousness rushed down upon eArth in an uninterrupted flow.
  March 19, 195624
  On March 19 during the translation class the inner voice said:
  24Note written by Mother in French At this period, Mother's back was already bent. This straightening of her back seems to be the first physiological effect of the 'Supramental Manifestation' of February 29, which is perhaps the reason why Mother noted down the experience under the name 'Agenda of the Supramental Action on EArth.' It was the first time Mother gave a title to what would become this fabulous document of 13 volumes. The experience took place during a 'translation class' when, twice a week, Mother would translate the works of Sri Aurobindo into French before a group of disciples.
  We know this truth, and we are working for it so that it may reign upon eArth.
  Therefore, Sweet Mother, I come to ask a great grace of you, from the depths of my heArt: take my freedom into your hands. Prevent me from falling back, far away from you. I place this freedom in your hands. Keep me safe, Mother, protect me. Grant me the grace of watching over me and of taking me in your hands completely, like a child whose steps are unsure. I no longer want this
  Freedom. It is you I want, the Truth of my being. Mother, as a grace, I implore you to free me from my freedom to choose wrongly.
  My dear child,
  Agreed - with all my heArt I accept the gift you give me of your freedom to choose wrongly ...
  And it is with all my heArt, too, that I shall always help you make the choice that leads straight to the goal - that is, towards your real self.
  A new
  Light shall break upon the eArth.
  April 24, 195630
  The manifestation of the Supramental upon eArth is no more a promise but a living fact, a reality.
  Sweet Mother, I feel intensely, almost painfully, how much all my relationships with the outer world are FALSE, obscure, ignorant. As soon as I am away from the heArt of my being, all my actions are approximations, all my contacts with other beings are turbid, my work itself becomes tainted with a thousand doubtful little motives. Mother, I know with a blinding certitude - even if this certitude is only mental - that the only solution is to come into contact with my true being. I know that by finding my true being I shall find the right action, the right relationships with the outside, and truth, knowledge, joy. I know this now in a profound way, and nothing can ever turn me away from it again. Every evening, this Truth comes physically to embrace me. And yet every morning, I have half-forgotten, and I spend nearly the whole day on the surface of my being.
  First of all, I began by feeling, perceiving in an absolutely obvious way, that it is you and you alone who has been doing my yoga, that you have been doing everything for me and that you have been there forever, guiding each one of my steps. I felt luminously that without you I would never have been able to go forward a single step and that, basically, all my efforts have served only to teach me the futility of my efforts, as it were, and to lead me to this point of helplessness where I must totally surrender myself into the hands of a greater Force - into your hands. And I felt so absolutely that you would do EVERYTHING for me if only I relied upon you totally. It was like a liberation, like a weight that you lifted from my heArt. No longer was it a question of trying to cling inwardly, of pushing and pulling until I was stiff and aching within; it was enough to let you act.
  Then I felt a dual movement enter into me, almost a physical movement that followed the rhythm of my breathing, as though every time I breathed in, I was receiving something, and every time I breathed out, I was offering myself. And this dual movement of receiving and offering seemed to grow within me, as though it were the very movement of the world, the breathing of the world that receives and gives itself. And I perceived that, at a certain moment, this rhythm could stop, the circle close again, the two breaths join in a luminous immobility. Then vaguely, I discerned - as though from far away, behind a veil - a kind of pure, brilliant white light, and saw that it was you at the heArt of the world. And then I felt how marvelous it was to be able to give myself. I seemed to have grasped the secret of duality, for the joy of offering, for the joy of love.
  Then I felt that I was beginning to mentalize things. In a way, I was afraid of recording too well what was happening, and I held myself out to you in silence and in love, for it seemed to me that the experience could be an obstacle, a stopping place, whereas one must always go fArther. Then it seemed that you were there - I did not see you exactly, but I felt, I felt that you were smiling at me as from behind a veil. The distribution ended all too soon, and then I had a class. But even this morning, a kind of joyous confidence in my heArt remains with me, and the need to express my infinite gratitude, my love. I belong to you, Mother, with my body, my life, my mind.
  (Extract from the Wednesday class)
  Sweet Mother, you said, 'The Supramental has come down on eArth.' What does this mean, exactly? You also said, 'The things that were promised are fulfilled.' What are these things?
  Oh, really! How ignorant! It has been promised for such a very long time, it has been said for such a very long time - not only here in the Ashram, but ever since the beginning of the eArth. There have been all kinds of predictions, by all kinds of prophets. It has been said, 'There will be a new heaven and a new eArth, a new race shall be born, the world shall be transformed ...' Prophets have spoken of this in every tradition.
  The new race? Wait for something like ... a few thousand years or so, and you will see it!
  When the mind came down upon eArth, something like a million years went by between the manifestation of the mind in the eArth atmosphere and the appearance of the first man. But it will go faster this time because man is waiting for something, he has a vague idea: he is awaiting in some way or another the advent of the superman. Whereas the apes were certainly not awaiting the birth of man, they never thought of it - for the excellent reason that they probably don't think very much!
  But man has thought about it and is waiting, so it will go faster. But faster probably still means thousands of years. We shall speak of this again in a few thousand years!
  Those who are ready within, who are open and in touch with the higher forces, those who have had a more or less direct personal contact with the Supramental Light and Consciousness, are capable of feeling the difference in the eArth atmosphere.
  But for this ... only like can know like. Only the Supramental Consciousness in an individual can perceive the Supramental acting in the eArth atmosphere. Those who, for whatever reason, have developed this perception can see it. But those who are not even remotely conscious of their inner beings, who would be quite at a loss to say what their souls look like, are certainly not ready to perceive the difference in the eArth atmosphere. They still have quite a way to go for that. Because, for those whose consciousness is more or less exclusively centered in the outer being - mental, vital and physical - things need to have an absurd or unexpected appearance to be noticeable. And then they call it a miracle.
  But they want everything to remain as it was and, as you say, to be the first to 'benefit.'
  Mother, when the mind came down into the eArth atmosphere, the ape did not make any effort to convert himself into a man, did he? It was Nature that supplied the effort. But in our case ...
  What I call a 'descent' is the individual movement in an individual consciousness. But when a new world is manifesting in an old world - as when similarly the mind spread over the eArth - I call it a manifestation.
  July 29, 195632
  O Thou who Art always there - present in all I do, all I am - not for repose do I aspire, but for THY
  I feel a bit lost, cut off from you. The idea of going to the Himalayas is absurd and I am abandoning it. My friends tell me that I may remain with them as long as I wish, but this is hardly a solution; I don't even feel like writing a book any longer - nothing seems to appeal to me except the trees in this garden and the music that fills a large pArt of my days. There is no solution other than the Ashram or Brazil. You alone can tell me what to do.
  My dear child,
  For my pArt, there has been no 'cut' and I have not been severe ... My feelings cannot change, for they are based upon something other than outer circumstances.
  That which you would not do for yourself personally, would you not do it for the divine cause?
  Go to Brazil, to this 'good' rich man, make him understand the importance of our work, the extent to which his fortune would be used to the utmost for the good of all and for the eArth's salvation were he to put it, even pArtially, at the disposal of our action. Win this victory over the power of money, and by so doing you will be freed from all your personal difficulties. Then you can return here with no apprehension, and you will be ready for the transformation.
  And what is the Ashram? (I don't even mean in terms of the Universe - on EArth only.) A speck.
  Two things which were parallel and concomitant - that is, they are always together:
  One - identity with the Origin, which impArts an absolute serenity and perfect detachment to the action.
  And the moment I perceived this, I saw that my third attitude in action, which is the will for progress for the whole eArth as well as for each pArticular individual, was not the height of my being.
  One is never anything but a divine apprentice: the Divine of yesterday is only an apprentice to the
  Divine of tomorrow ... No, I am not speaking of a progressive manifestation - that is much fArther below.
  This is what I wanted to take with me to my super-heaven, as the most precious thing in the human heArt.
  I am facing the same difficulties as before my depArture to Hyderabad, and I have made the same mistakes. The main reason for this state is that, on the one hand, words and ideas seem to have lost all power over me, and on the other, the vital elan which led me thus far is dead. So upon what shall my faith rest? I still have some faith, of course, but it has become totally ABSTRACT. The vital does not cooperate, so I feel all withered, suspended in a void, nothing seems to give me direction anymore. There is no rebelliousness in me, but rather a void.
  In this state, I am ceaselessly thinking of my forest in Guiana or of my travels through Africa and the ardor that filled me with life in those days. I seem to need to have my goal before me and to walk towards it. Outer difficulties also seem to help me resolve my inner problems: there is a kind of need in me for the 'elements' - the sea, the forest, the desert - for a milieu with which I can wrestle and through which I can grow. Here, I seem to lack a dynamic point of leverage. Here, in the everyday routine, everything seems to be falling apArt in me. Should I not return to my forest in

0.06_-_INTRODUCTION, #Dark Night of the Soul, #Saint John of the Cross, #Christianity
  of Mount Carmel and fulfils the undertakings given in it:
  The first night or purgation is of the sensual pArt of the soul, which is
  treated in the present stanza, and will be treated in the first pArt of this book.
  And the second is of the spiritual pArt; of this speaks the second stanza,
  which follows; and of this we shall treat likewise, in the second and the third
  pArt, with respect to the activity of the soul; and in the fourth pArt, with
  respect to its passivity. 1
  This 'fourth pArt' is the Dark Night. Of it the Saint writes in a passage which
  follows that just quoted:
  from frailty or lukewarmness of spirit, or even from indisposition or 'humours' of the
  body. The Saint is pArticularly effective here, and we may once more compare this
  chapter with a similar one in the Ascent (II, xiii)that in which he fixes the point
  rather than purgation. The reason is that all the imperfections and disorders of the
  sensual pArt have their strength and root in the spirit, where all habits, both good
  and bad, are brought into subjection, and thus, until these are purged, the
  other guide or support, either outward or inward, than the Divine love 'which
  burned in my heArt.'
  It is difficult to express adequately the sense of loss that one feels at the
  further progress towards the Sun's full brightness. It is true, of course, that some
  pArt of this great gap is filled by St. John of the Cross himself in his other treatises,
  but it is small compensation for the incomplete state in which he left this edifice of
  sublimest passages, this intermingling of philosophy with mystical theology makes
  him seem pArticularly so. These treatises are a wonderful illustration of the
  theological truth that grace, far from destroying nature, ennobles and dignifies it,

0.07_-_1957, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Sweet Mother,
  The conflict that is tearing me apArt is between this shadowy pArt of a past that does not want to die, and the new light. I wonder if, rather than escaping to some desert, it would not be wiser to resolve this conflict by objectify it, by writing this book I spoke to you about.
  You told me one day that I could be 'useful' to you. Then, by chance, I came across this passage from Sri Aurobindo the other day: 'Everyone has in him something divine, something his own, a chance of perfection and strength in however small a sphere which God offers him to take or refuse.'
  Could you tell me, as a favor, what this pArticular thing is in me which may be useful to you and serve you? If I could only know what my real work is in this world ... All the conflicting impulses in me stem from my being like an unemployed force, like a being whose place has not yet been determined.
  I would like to throw myself at your feet and open my heArt to you - but I cannot. I cannot.
  For more than a year now, I have been hypnotized by the idea that if I give in, I will be
  'condemned' to remain here. Once more, forgive me for speaking so absurdly, for of course I know it is not a 'condemnation'; and yet a pArt of me feels that it would be.
  Each one has the right to reunite with his supreme Origin whatever his place in the world order
  - that is the gift the Divine has given to matter, and this is your true destiny. And it is a special gift given to the eArth; it does not exist in the other worlds. At the same time, each one has a pArticular role in the manifestation, which is determined by the Supreme, but this same role can exist on different levels depending upon the degree of evolution of 'that' which is within you. If 'that' within you is still very young, your realization may be absolute and you may effectively be able to reunite with the Supreme, but the field of realization in the world will be limited, very small. Along the vertical plane, you may be able to touch the Supreme directly, in spite of your smallness, but on the horizontal plane, the extent of your realization will be infinitesimal. We could take the example of Maheshwari, the Mother of Might and All-Wisdom. This aspect of the Mother will assume different forms depending upon the degree of evolution of 'that' within you: it might be a mere little group leader, a queen, an empress. She will be in the group leader as well as in the empress, but the field of realization will obviously be different.
  When seen from the supreme consciousness, the unfolding of all the destinies and all the possibilities of destiny is something infinitely interesting. For example, there are beings accused of megalomania because they have vast projects and great designs which do not always fit in with the world's present possibilities. Most often, it is a simple lack of judgment on their pArt, a lack of knowledge. They have indeed entered into communication with a higher truth, something that probably corresponds to a future phase of their destiny (which is why they are so convinced), but through lack of judgment, they do not see that the time for this truth has not yet come, that the circumstances are not yet ready, or that the conditions in which they were born prevent them from carrying out what they feel to be true. There is a gap between the vision of a truth and its present possibilities for realization. But these great dreams must not be killed, for it would mean killing something of your own future. Above all, we must refuse, energetically reject, this hideous morality of the Philistine which says that 'nothing ever changes,' this flat and vulgar common sense a la
  Sancho Panza. Simply, one must know how to wait and to nurture one's dreams for a long time.
  Its symbolism was very clear, though of quite a familiar nature, as it were, and because of its very familiarity, unmistakable in its realism ... Were I to tell you all the details, you would probably not even be able to follow: it was rather intricate. It was a kind of (how can I express it?) - an immense hotel where all the terrestrial possibilities were lodged in different apArtments. And it was all in a constant state of transformation: pArts or entire wings of the building were suddenly torn down and rebuilt while people were still living in them, such that if you went off somewhere within the immense hotel itself, you ran the risk of no longer finding your room when you wanted to return to it, for it might have been torn down and was being rebuilt according to another plan! It was
  It went something like this: somewhere, in the center of this enormous edifice, there was a room reserved - as it seemed in the story - for a mother and her daughter. The mother was a lady, an elderly lady, a very influential matron who had a great deal of authority and her own views concerning the entire organization. Her daughter seemed to have a power of movement and activity enabling her to be everywhere at once while at the same time remaining in her room, which was ... well, a bit more than a room - it was a kind of apArtment which, above all, had the characteristic of being very central. But she was constantly arguing with her mother. The mother wanted to keep things 'just as they were,' with their usual rhythm, which precisely meant the habit of tearing down one thing to rebuild another, then again tearing down that to build still another, thus giving the building an appearance of frightful confusion. But the daughter did not like this, and she had another plan. Most of all, she wanted to bring something completely new into the organization: a kind of super-organization that would render all this confusion unnecessary. Finally, as it was impossible for them to reach an understanding, the daughter left the room to go on a kind of general inspection ... She went out, looked everything over, and then wanted to return to her room to decide upon some final measures. But this is where something rather ... peculiar began happening.
  Yet it is one of the most common types of human collectivity - to group together, band together, unite around a common ideal, a common action, a common realization but in an absolutely Artificial way. In contrast to this, Sri Aurobindo tells us that a true community - what he terms a gnostic or supramental community - can be based only upon the INNER REALIZATION of each one of its members, each realizing his real, concrete oneness and identity with all the other members of the community; that is, each one should not feel himself a member connected to all the others in an arbitrary way, but that all are one within himself. For each one, the others should be as much himself as his own body - not in a mental and Artificial way, but through a fact of consciousness, by an inner realization.
  This means that before hoping to realize such a gnostic collectivity, each one must first of all become (or at least stArt to become) a gnostic being. It is obvious that the individual work must take the lead and the collective work follow; but the fact remains that spontaneously, without any arbitrary intervention of will the individual progress IS restrained or CHECKED, as It were, by the collective state. Between the collectivity and the individual, there exists an interdependence from which one cannot be totally free, even if one tries. And even he who might try, in his yoga, to free himself totally from the human and terrestrial state of consciousness, would be at least subconsciously bound by the state of the whole, which impedes and PULLS BACKWARDS. One can attempt to go much faster, one can attempt to let all the weight of attachments and responsibilities fall off, but in spite of everything, the realization of even the most advanced or the leader in the march of evolution is dependent upon the realization of the whole, dependent upon the state in which the terrestrial collectivity happens to be. And this PULLS backwards to such an extent that sometimes one has to wait centuries for the eArth to be ready before being able to realize what is to be realized.
  Thus you are sure of always remaining my child - for the rest, act according to your heArt, and you will always have my blessings.
  There is no question of my abandoning the path - and I remain convinced that the only goal in life is spiritual. But I need things to help me along the way: I am not yet ripe enough to depend upon inner strength alone. And when I speak of the forest or a boat, it is not only for the sake of adventure or the feeling of space, but also because they mean a discipline. Outer constraints and difficulties help me, they force me to remain concentrated around that which is best in me. In a sense, life here is too easy. Yet it is also too hard, for one must depend on one's own discipline - I do not yet have that strength, I need to be helped by outer circumstances. The very difficulty of life in the outside world helps me to be disciplined, for it forces me to concentrate all my vital strength in effort. Here, this vital pArt is unemployed, so it acts foolishly, it strains at the leash.
  I give you so little love, but I have tried my best, and my depArture is not a betrayal.
  I need a practical method corresponding to my present possibilities and to results of which I am presently capable. I feel that my efforts are dispersed by concentrating sometimes here, sometimes there - a feeling of not knowing exactly what to do to break through and get out of all this. Would you point out some pArticular concentration to which I could adhere, a pArticular method that I would stick to?
  I am well aware that a supple attitude is recommended in the Yoga, yet for the time being, it seems to me that one well-defined method would help me hold on42 - this practical aspect would help me. I will do it methodically, obstinately, until it cracks for good.
  The qualities more pArticularly required for the tests of physical Nature are endurance and plasticity, cheerfulness and fearlessness.
  Is it you in your supreme consciousness, an impersonal divine force, the force of the yoga, or you, the embodied Mother with your physical consciousness - a personal presence really intimate to our every thought and act, and not some anonymous force? Can you tell us how and in what way you are present with us?
  It is said that Sri Aurobindo and you are one and the same consciousness, but are the personal presence of Sri Aurobindo and your own personal presence two distinct things, each playing a pArticular role?
  I am with you because I AM you or you are me.
  There is more than a bond with those whom I have accepted as disciples, those to whom I have said 'yes' - there is an emanation of myself. Whenever necessary, this emanation notifies me as to what is happening. In fact, I know constantly, but all these things are not registered in my active memory, otherwise I would be flooded - the physical consciousness acts as a filter: things are recorded on a subtle plane and remain there in the latent state, rather like music that is silently recorded, and when I need to know something with my physical consciousness, I plug into this subtle plane and the tape stArts playing. Then I can see things, their evolution and the present result.
  Now, you know that Sri Aurobindo and I are always one and the same consciousness, one and the same person. Only, when this unique force or presence is felt in your individual consciousness, it assumes different forms or appearances depending upon your temperament, your aspirations, your needs, the pArticular cast of your nature. Your individual consciousness is like a filter, a pointer, as it were; it makes a choice and settles upon one possibility in the infinity of divine possibilities. In truth, the Divine gives to each one exactly what he expects from Him. If you believe the Divine to be distant and cruel, He will be distant and cruel, because it may be necessary for your supreme wellbeing to feel the wrath of God. He will be Kali 43 for the worshippers of Kali, and bliss for the bhakta.44 He will be the All-Knowledge of seekers after Knowledge, the Transcendent Impersonal of the illusionist. He will be an atheist for the atheist, and the love of the lover. He will be fraternal and near, an ever faithful friend, ever helpful, to those who feel him as the inner guide of each movement, at each minute. And if you believe that He can erase everything, He will erase all your faults, all your errors, tirelessly, and at each moment you will feel his infinite Grace. In truth, the
  Divine is what you expect of Him in your deep aspiration.
  7) But even in the event you have not made the irrevocable decision at the outset, should you have the good fortune to live during one of these unimaginable hours of universal history when the
  Grace is present, embodied upon eArth, It will offer you, at certain exceptional moments, the renewed possibility of making a final choice that will lead you straight to the goal.
  These minutes of contact with the soul are often those that mark a decisive turning point in one's life, a step forward; a progress in consciousness, and they frequently result from a crisis, a situation of extreme intensity, when a call surges forth from the whole being, a call so strong that the inner consciousness pierces through the unconscious layers that envelop it and is revealed fully luminous upon the surface. This very strong call of the being can also call forth the descent of a divine emanation, an individuality, a divine aspect that unites with your own individuality at a given moment to do a given work, to win a pArticular battle, to express this thing or that. Then, when the work is accomplished, this emanation most often withdraws. So it may be that one retains the memory of the circumstances surrounding these minutes of revelation or inspiration, one sees again a landscape, the color of a garment one was wearing, the shade of one's skin, things that were around you at that pArticular moment - all this is imprinted in an indelible way, with an extraordinary intensity, for the details of ordinary life are then also revealed in their true intensity, their true tonality. The consciousness that reveals itself in you reveals at the same time the consciousness in things. These details can sometimes help you reconstitute the period in which you lived or the deeds that were accomplished, surmise the country where you lived, but it is quite easy, too, to fantasize and mistake one's imaginings for reality.
  But apArt from the things that were around you at that minute, apArt from that minute of contact with your psychic being, nothing remains. Once the privileged moment has passed, the psychic being sinks back into its inner somnolence and the whole outer life fades into a monotonous gray which leaves no trace. In fact, something of the same phenomenon occurs in the course of your present life: apArt from those exceptional moments when you are at the summit of your mental, vital or even physical being, the rest of your existence seems to fade into an uninteresting, dull tonality, and it matters very little whether you have been at this place or some other or whether you have done this thing rather than another. If suddenly you try to look at your life in order to gather its essence - to peer twenty or thirty or forty years behind you - you will see two or three images spontaneously leap before you, and they are the true minutes of your life, but all the rest fades away. A spontaneous choice and a tremendous elimination thus take place in your consciousness.
  Of course, one's early lives are quite rudimentary and little remains of them, a few scattered memories. But the more you progress in consciousness and the more the psychic being consciously associates itself with the outer activities, the more abundant, coherent and precise do the memories become - yet here too the memory that remains is that of the contact with the soul, and sometimes of the things associated with the psychic revelation - not your civil status nor the ever-changing setting. And this explains why these so-called memories of animal lives pArtake of the highest fantasies; in animals, the divine spark is too deeply buried to come to the surface consciously and be associated with the outer life. One must become a totally conscious being, in all the pArts of the being, and be totally united with one's divine origin before one can truly say that one recalls his past lives.
  The other day you told me that in order to know things, you plug into the subtle plane, and there it all unrolls as on a tape recorder. How does this work, exactly?
  There is a whole gradation of planes of consciousness, from the physical consciousness to my radiant consciousness at the very highest level, that which knows the Will of the Supreme. I keep all these planes of consciousness in front of me, working simultaneously, coordinatedly, and I am acting on each plane, gathering the information proper to each plane, so as to have the integral truth of things. Thus, when I have a decision to make in regard to one of you, I plug into you directly from that level of the supreme consciousness which sees the deep truth of your being. But at the same time, my decision is shaped, as it were, by the information given to me by the other planes of consciousness and pArticularly by the physical consciousness, which acts as a recorder.
  Humility, a perfect humility, is the condition for all realization. The mind is so cocksure. It thinks it knows everything, understands everything. And if ever it acts through idealism to serve a cause that appears noble to it, it becomes even more arrogant more intransigent, and it is almost impossible to make it see that there might. be something still higher beyond its noble conceptions and its great altruistic or other ideals. Humility is the only remedy. I am not speaking of humility as conceived by certain religions, with this God that belittles his creatures and only likes to see them down on their knees. When I was a child, this kind of humility revolted me, and I refused to believe in a God that wants to belittle his creatures. I don't mean that kind of humility, but rather the recognition that one does not know, that one knows nothing, and that there may be something beyond what presently appears to us as the truest, the most noble or disinterested. True humility consists in constantly referring oneself to the Lord, in placing all before Him. When I receive a blow (and there are quite a few of them in my sadhana), my immediate, spontaneous reaction, like a spring, is to throw myself before Him and to say, 'Thou, Lord.' Without this humility, I would never have been able to realize anything. And I say 'I' only to make myself understood, but in fact
  'I' means the Lord through this body, his instrument. When you begin living THIS kind of humility, it means you are drawing nearer to the realization. It is the condition, the stArting point.

0.07_-_DARK_NIGHT_OF_THE_SOUL, #Dark Night of the Soul, #Saint John of the Cross, #Christianity
  IN this book are first set down all the stanzas which are to be expounded; afterwards, each of the stanzas is expounded separately, being set down before its exposition; and then each line is expounded separately and in turn, the line itself also being set down before the exposition. In the first two stanzas are expounded the effects of the two spiritual purgations: of the sensual pArt of man and of the spiritual pArt. In the other six are expounded various and wondrous effects of the spiritual illumination and union of love with God.
  3. In the happy night, In secret, when none saw me,
  Nor I beheld aught, Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heArt.
  7. The breeze blew from the turret As I pArted his locks;
  With his gentle hand he wounded my neck And caused all my senses to be suspended.

01.01_-_The_One_Thing_Needful, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  To find the Divine is indeed the first reason for seeking the spiritual Truth and the spiritual life; it is the one thing indispensable and all the resit is nothing without it. The Divine once found, to manifest Him, - that is, first of all to transform one's own limited consciousness into the Divine Consciousness, to live in the infinite Peace, Light, Love, Strength, Bliss, to become that in one's essential nature and, as a consequence, to be its vessel, channel, instrument in one's active nature. To bring into activity the principle of oneness on the material plane or to work for humanity is a mental mistranslation of the Truth - these things cannot be the first true object of spiritual seeking. We must find the Self, the Divine, then only can we know what is the work the Self or the Divine demands from us. Until then our life and action can only be a help or a means towards finding the Divine and it ought not to have any other purpose. As we grow in inner consciousness, or as the spiritual Truth of the Divine grows in us, our life and action must indeed more and more flow from that, be one with that. But to decide beforehand by our limited mental conceptions what they must be is to hamper the growth of the spiritual Truth within. As that grows we shall feel the Divine Light and Truth, the Divine Power and Force, the Divine Purity and Peace working within us, dealing with our actions as well as our consciousness, making use of them to reshape us into the Divine Image, removing the dross, substituting the pure Gold of the Spirit. Only when the Divine Presence is there in us always and the consciousness transformed, can we have the right to say that we are ready to manifest the Divine on the material plane. To hold up a mental ideal or principle and impose that on the inner working brings the danger of limiting ourselves to a mental realisation or of impeding or even falsifying by a halfway formation the truth growth into the full communion and union with the Divine and the free and intimate outflowing of His will in our life. This is a mistake of orientation to which the mind of today is especially prone. It is far better to approach the Divine for the Peace or Light or Bliss that the realisation of Him gives than to bring in these minor things which can divert us from the one thing needful. The divinisation of the material life also as well as the inner life is pArt of what we see as the Divine Plan, but it can only be fulfilled by an ourflowing of the inner realisation, something that grows from within outwards, not by the working out of a mental principle.
  The realisation of the Divine is the one thing needful and the rest is desirable only in so far as it helps or leads towards that or when it is realised, extends and manifests the realisation. Manifestation and organisation of the whole life for the divine work, - first, the sadhana personal and collective necessary for the realisation and a common life of God-realised men, secondly, for help to the world to move towards that, and to live in the Light - is the whole meaning and purpose of my Yoga. But the realisation is the first need and it is that round which all the rest moves, for apArt from it all the rest would have no meaning.
  Yoga is directed towards God, not towards man. If a divine supramental consciousness and power can be brought down and established in the material world, that obviously would mean an immense change for the eArth including humanity and its life. But the effect on humanity would only be one result of the change; it cannot be the object of the sadhana. The object of the sadhana can only be to live in the divine consciousness and to manifest it in life.
  ... the principle of this Yoga is not perfection of the human nature as it is but a psychic and spiritual transformation of all the pArts of the being through the action of an inner consciousness and then of a higher consciousness which works on them, throws out the old movements or changes them into the image of its own and so transmutes lower into higher nature. It is not so much the perfection of the intellect as a transcendence of it, a transformation of the mind, the substitution of a larger greater principle of knowledge - and so with all the rest of the being.
    This is a slow and difficult process; the road is long and it is hard to establish even the necessary basis. The old existing nature resists and obstructs and difficulties rise one after another and repeatedly till they are overcome. It is therefore necessary to be sure that this is the path to which one is called before one finally decides to tread it.

01.01_-_The_Symbol_Dawn, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  And carries our lives in its somnambulist whirl.
  AthwArt the vain enormous trance of Space,
  Its formless stupor without mind or life,
  Thrown back once more into unthinking dreams,
  EArth wheeled abandoned in the hollow gulfs
  Forgetful of her spirit and her fate.
  A long lone line of hesitating hue
  Like a vague smile tempting a desert heArt
  Troubled the far rim of life's obscure sleep.
  A sense was born within the darkness' depths,
  A memory quivered in the heArt of Time
  As if a soul long dead were moved to live:
  On life's thin border awhile the Vision stood
  And bent over eArth's pondering forehead curve.
  Interpreting a recondite beauty and bliss
  Infinity's centre, a Face of rapturous calm
  PArted the eternal lids that open heaven;
  A Form from far beatitudes seemed to near.
  Then, thoughtful, went to her immortal work.
  EArth felt the Imperishable's passage close:
  The waking ear of Nature heard her steps
  All grew a consecration and a rite.
  Air was a vibrant link between eArth and heaven;
  The wide-winged hymn of a great priestly wind
  Here where our half-lit ignorance skirts the gulfs
  On the dumb bosom of the ambiguous eArth,
  Here where one knows not even the step in front
  Outspread beneath some large indifferent gaze,
  ImpArtial witness of our joy and bale,
  Our prostrate soil bore the awakening ray.
  The worship of a Presence and a Power
  Too perfect to be held by death-bound heArts,
  The prescience of a marvellous birth to come.
  The rarity and wonder lived no more.
  There was the common light of eArthly day.
  Affranchised from the respite of fatigue
  Akin to the eternity whence she came,
  No pArt she took in this small happiness;
  A mighty stranger in the human field,
  Its fluttering-hued illusion of desire,
  Visited her heArt like a sweet alien note.
  Time's message of brief light was not for her.
  But long could keep not its gold heavenly hue
  Or stand upon this brittle eArthly base.
  A narrow movement on Time's deep abysm,
  The key to the flaming doors of ecstasy.
  EArth's grain that needs the sap of pleasure and tears
  Rejected the undying rapture's boon:
  That heaven might native grow on mortal soil.
  Hard is it to persuade eArth-nature's change;
  Mortality bears ill the eternal's touch:
  It meets the sons of God with death and pain.
  A glory of lightnings traversing the eArth-scene,
  Their sun-thoughts fading, darkened by ignorant minds,
  Only they leave behind a splendid Name.
  A fire has come and touched men's heArts and gone;
  A few have caught flame and risen to greater life.
  The mortal's lot became the Immortal's share.
  Thus trapped in the gin of eArthly destinies,
  Awaiting her ordeal's hour abode,
  From all of whom she was the star and stay;
  Too great to impArt the peril and the pain,
  In her torn depths she kept the grief to come.
  Takes up the load of an unwitting race,
  Harbouring a foe whom with her heArt she must feed,
  Unknown her act, unknown the doom she faced,
  Her nature felt all Nature as its own.
  ApArt, living within, all lives she bore;
  Aloof, she carried in herself the world:
  Of her pangs she made a mystic poignant sword.
  A solitary mind, a world-wide heArt,
  To the lone Immortal's unshared work she rose.
  At first life grieved not in her burdened breast:
  On the lap of eArth's original somnolence
  Inert, released into forgetfulness,
  The unassisted brain found not its past.
  Only a vague eArth-nature held the frame.
  But now she stirred, her life shared the cosmic load.
  And the tired feet of thought approached her doors.
  All came back to her: EArth and Love and Doom,
  The ancient disputants, encircled her
  Awoke to struggle and the pang divine,
  And in the shadow of her flaming heArt,
  At the sombre centre of the dire debate,
  The sacrifice of suffering and desire
  EArth offers to the immortal Ecstasy
  Began again beneath the eternal Hand.

01.02_-_The_Issue, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
    Alone amid the many faces loved,
    Aware among unknowing happy heArts,
    Her armoured spirit kept watch upon the hours
    To a first thin strip of simple animal wants,
    And the mighty wildness of the primitive eArth
    And the brooding multitude of patient trees
    There was her drama's radiant prologue lived.
    A spot for the eternal's tread on eArth
    Set in the cloistral yearning of the woods
    Repeating the marvel of the first descent,
    Changing to rapture the dull eArthly round,
    Love came to her hiding the shadow, Death.
    Well might he find in her his perfect shrine.
    Since first the eArth-being's heavenward growth began,
    Through all the long ordeal of the race,
    Never a rarer creature bore his shaft,
    That burning test of the godhead in our pArts,
    A lightning from the heights on our abyss.
    All in her pointed to a nobler kind.
    Near to eArth's wideness, intimate with heaven,
    Exalted and swift her young large-visioned spirit
    Moves in some prophet cavern of the gods,
    A heArt of silence in the hands of joy
    Inhabited with rich creative beats
    Her look, her smile awoke celestial sense
    Even in eArth-stuff, and their intense delight
    Poured a supernal beauty on men's lives.
    Love in her was wider than the universe,
    The whole world could take refuge in her single heArt.
    The great unsatisfied godhead here could dwell:
      Till then no mournful line had barred this ray.
    On the frail breast of this precarious eArth,
    Since her orbed sight in its breath-fastened house,
    Her walk kept still the measures of the gods.
    EArth's breath had failed to stain that brilliant glass:
    Unsmeared with the dust of our mortal atmosphere
    Assailing her divinest elements,
    He made her heArt kin to the striving human heArt
    And forced her strength to its appointed road.
    But not to submit and suffer was she born;
    To lead, to deliver was her glorious pArt.
    Here was no fabric of terrestrial make
    One slow move forward on a measureless board
    In the chess-play of the eArth-soul with Doom,--
    Such is the human figure drawn by Time.
    An answering touch might shatter all measures made
    And eArth sink down with the weight of the Infinite.
    A gaol is this immense material world:
    A bond is put on the high-climbing mind,
    A seal on the too large wide-open heArt;
    Death stays the journeying discoverer, Life.
    Her head she bowed not to the stark decree
    Baring her helpless heArt to destiny's stroke.
    So bows and must the mind-born will in man
    Or, finding all life's golden meanings robbed,
    Compound with eArth, struck from the starry list,
    Or quench with black despair the God-given light.
    To the brute balance of the world's exchange.
    A force in her that toiled since eArth was made,
    Accomplishing in life the great world-plan,
    Her strength made greater by the lightning's touch
    Awoke from slumber in her heArt's recess.
    It bore the stroke of That which kills and saves.
    She faced the engines of the universe;
    A heArt stood in the way of the driving wheels:
    Its giant workings paused in front of a mind,
    A piston brain pumps out the shapes of thought,
    A beating heArt cuts out emotion's modes;
    An insentient energy fabricates a soul.

01.02_-_The_Object_of_the_Integral_Yoga, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  To come to this Yoga merely with the idea of being a superman would be an act of vital egoism which would defeat its own object. Those who put this object in the front of their preoccupations invariably come to grief, spiritually and otherwise. The aim of this Yoga is, first, to enter into the divine consciousness by merging into it the separative ego (incidentally, in doing so one finds one's true individual self which is not the limited, vain and selfish human ego but a portion of the Divine) and, secondly, to bring down the supramental consciousness on eArth to transform mind, life and body. All else can be only a result of these two aims, not the primary object of the Yoga.
  The only creation for which there is any place here is the supramental, the bringing of the divine Truth down on the eArth, not only into the mind and vital but into the body and into
  Matter. Our object is not to remove all "limitations" on the expansion of the ego or to give a free field and make unlimited room for the fulfilment of the ideas of the human mind or the desires of the ego-centred life-force. None of us are here to "do as we like", or to create a world in which we shall at last be able to do as we like; we are here to do what the Divine wills and to create a world in which the Divine Will can manifest its truth no longer deformed by human ignorance or perverted and mistranslated by vital desire. The work which the sadhak of the supramental Yoga has to do is not his own work for which he can lay down his own conditions, but the work of the Divine which he has to do according to the conditions laid down by the Divine. Our Yoga is not for our own sake but for the sake of the Divine. It is not our own personal manifestation that we are to seek, the manifestation of the individual ego freed from all bounds and from all bonds, but the manifestation of the Divine. Of that manifestation our own spiritual liberation, perfection, fullness is to be a result and a pArt, but not in any egoistic sense or for any ego-centred or self-seeking purpose.

01.03_-_The_Yoga_of_the_King_The_Yoga_of_the_Souls_Release, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  A thinker and toiler in the ideal's air,
  Brought down to eArth's dumb need her radiant power.
  His was a spirit that stooped from larger spheres
  A colonist from immortality.
  A pointing beam on eArth's uncertain roads,
  His birth held up a symbol and a sign;
  Affiliated to cosmic Space and Time
  And paying here God's debt to eArth and man
  A greater sonship was his divine right.
  A fiery portion of the Wonderful,
  Artist of his own beauty and delight,
  Immortal in our mortal poverty.
  And loses his kinship to mortality.
  A beam of the Eternal smites his heArt,
  His thought stretches into infinitude;
  Original and supernal Immanence
  Of which all Nature's process is the Art,
  The cosmic Worker set his secret hand
  In the wide workshop of the wonderful world,
  Modelled in inward Time his rhythmic pArts.
  Then came the abrupt transcendent miracle:
  A crown of the architecture of the worlds,
  A mystery of married EArth and Heaven
  Annexed divinity to the mortal scheme.
  And broken the intellect's hard and lustrous lid;
  Truth unpArtitioned found immense sky-room;
  An empyrean vision saw and knew;
  Mind's soar, soul's dive into the Infinite.
  Even his first steps broke our small eArth-bounds
  And loitered in a vaster freer air.
  He made of miracle a normal act
  And turned to a common pArt of divine works,
  Magnificently natural at this height,
  Efforts that would shatter the strength of mortal heArts,
  Pursued in a royalty of mighty ease
  In beings it knew what lurked to them unknown;
  It seized the idea in mind, the wish in the heArt;
  It plucked out from grey folds of secrecy
  A magical accord quickened and attuned
  To ethereal symphonies the old eArthy strings;
  It raised the servitors of mind and life
  To be happy pArtners in the soul's response,
  Tissue and nerve were turned to sensitive chords,
  A heavenlier function with a finer mode
  Lit with its grace man's outward eArthliness;
  The soul's experience of its deeper sheaths
  The mystic tract beyond our waking thoughts,
  A door pArted, built in by Matter's force,
  Releasing things unseized by eArthly sense:
  A world unseen, unknown by outward mind
  Lain in the arms of the Eternal's peace,
  Rapt in the heArt-beats of God-ecstasy.
  He lived in the mystic space where thought is born
  And peered into gleaming endless corridors,
  Silent and listening in the silent heArt
  For the coming of the new and the unknown.
  And joys that never flowed through mortal limbs,
  And lovelier scenes than eArth's and happier lives.
  A consciousness of beauty and of bliss,
  A knowledge which became what it perceived,
  Replaced the separated sense and heArt
  And drew all Nature into its embrace.
  Hearing was a stream of magic audience,
  A bed for occult sounds eArth cannot hear.
  Out of a covert tract of slumber self
  Only mid an omniscient silence heard,
  Held by intuitive heArt and secret sense.
  It caught the burden of secrecies sealed and dumb,
  It voiced the unfulfilled demand of eArth
  And the song of promise of unrealised heavens
  The murmur and whisper of the unheard sounds
  Which crowd around our heArts but find no window
  To enter, swelled into a canticle
  The stammer of the primal ignorance;
  Answer to that inArticulate questioning,
  There stooped with lightning neck and thunder's wings
  And honeyed pleadings breathed from occult lips
  To help the heArt to yield to rapture's call,
  And sweet temptations stole from beauty's realms
  A contact thrilled of mighty unknown things.
  Awakened to new uneArthly closenesses,
  The touch replied to subtle infinities,
  All tokens dropped our sense can recognise;
  There the heArt beat no more at body's touch,
  There the eyes gazed no more on beauty's shape.
  While there, one is one's own infinity.
  His centre was no more in eArthly mind;
  A power of seeing silence filled his limbs:
  The torment edging the dire force of lust
  That wakes kinetic in eArth's dullard slime
  And carves a personality out of mud,
  The toiling Thinker widened and grew still,
  Wisdom transcendent touched his quivering heArt:
  His soul could sail beyond thought's luminous bar;
  Replace the titan will for ever to climb,
  On the heArt's altar dim the sacred fire.
  An old pull of subconscious cords renews;
  Chooses its home mid the tumults of the sense.
  He comes unseen into our darker pArts
  And, curtained by the darkness, does his work,
  Nature would ever labour unredeemed;
  Our eArth would ever spin unhelped in Space,
  And this immense creation's purpose fail
  The Light remained in him a longer space.
  In this oscillation between eArth and heaven,
  In this ineffable communion's climb
  Immobile it beheld the flux of things,
  Calm and apArt supported all that is:
  His spirit's stillness helped the toiling world.
  Inspired by silence and the closed eyes' sight
  His force could work with a new luminous Art
  On the crude material from which all is made
  Life made its home on the high tops of self;
  His soul, mind, heArt became a single sun;
  Only life's lower reaches remained dim.
  A rapture of the thrilled undying Word
  Poured into his heArt as into an empty cup,
  A repetition of God's first delight
  Along a naked curve in bourneless Self
  The points that run through the closed heArt of things
  Shadowed the indeterminable line
  Managed in the deep perspectives of the soul,
  And the realism of its illusive Art,
  Its logic of infinite intelligence,
  The trail of the Ideas that made the world,
  And, sown in the black eArth of Nature's trance,
  The seed of the Spirit's blind and huge desire
  And through great shoreless, voiceless, starless breadths
  Bore eArthward fragments of revealing thought
  Hewn from the silence of the Ineffable.
  A Voice in the heArt uttered the unspoken Name,
  A dream of seeking Thought wandering through Space
  A glory and a rapture and a charm,
  The All-Blissful sat unknown within the heArt;
  EArth's pains were the ransom of its prisoned delight.
  A glad communion tinged the passing hours;
  The divine Dwarf towered to unconquered worlds,
  EArth grew too narrow for his victory.
  Once only registering the heavy tread
  Even his body's subtle self within
  Could raise the eArthly pArts towards higher things
  And feel on it the breath of heavenlier air.
  His acts betrayed not the interior flame.
  This forged the greatness of his front to eArth.
  A genius heightened in his body's cells
  Beyond life's arc in spirit's immensities.
  ApArt he lived in his mind's solitude,
  A demigod shaping the lives of men:
  The universal strengths were linked with his;
  Filling eArth's smallness with their boundless breadths,
  He drew the energies that transmute an age.

01.03_-_Yoga_and_the_Ordinary_Life, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  It is not helpful to abandon the ordinary life before the being is ready for the full spiritual life. To do so means to precipitate a struggle between the different elements and exasperate it to a point of intensity which the nature is not ready to bear. The vital elements in you have pArtly to be met by the discipline and experience of life, while keeping the spiritual aim in view and trying to govern life by it progressively in the spirit of Karmayoga.
  But even if he can live pArtly in it or keep himself constantly open to it, he receives enough of this spiritual light and peace and strength and happiness to carry him securely through all the shocks of life. What one gains by opening to this spiritual consciousness, depends on what one seeks from it; if it is peace, one gets peace; if it is light or knowledge, one lives in a great light and receives a knowledge deeper and truer than any the normal mind of man can acquire; if it [is] strength or power, one gets a spiritual strength for the inner life or Yogic power to govern the outer work and action; if it is happiness, one enters into a beatitude far greater than any joy or happiness that the ordinary human life can give.
  There are many ways of opening to this Divine consciousness or entering into it. My way which I show to others is by a constant practice to go inward into oneself, to open by aspiration to the Divine and once one is conscious of it and its action to give oneself to It entirely. This self-giving means not to ask for anything but the constant contact or union with the Divine Consciousness, to aspire for its peace, power, light and felicity, but to ask nothing else and in life and action to be its instrument only for whatever work it gives one to do in the world. If one can once open and feel the Divine Force, the
  Power of the Spirit working in the mind and heArt and body, the rest is a matter of remaining faithful to It, calling for it always, allowing it to do its work when it comes and rejecting every other and inferior Force that belongs to the lower consciousness and the lower nature.
  ApArt from external things there are two possible inner ideals which a man can follow. The first is the highest ideal of ordinary human life and the other the divine ideal of Yoga.
  I must say in view of something you seem to have said to your father that it is not the object of the one to be a great man or the object of the other to be a great Yogin. The ideal of human life is to establish over the whole being the control of a clear, strong and rational mind and a right and rational will, to master the emotional, vital and physical being, create a harmony of the whole and develop the capacities whatever they are and fulfil them in life. In the terms of Hindu thought, it is to enthrone the rule of the purified and sattwic buddhi, follow the dharma, fulfilling one's own svadharma and doing the work proper to one's capacities, and satisfy kama and Artha under the control of the buddhi and the dharma. The object of the divine life, on the other hand, is to realise one's highest self or to realise
  God and to put the whole being into harmony with the truth of the highest self or the law of the divine nature, to find one's own divine capacities great or small and fulfil them in life as a sacrifice to the highest or as a true instrument of the divine
  The spiritual life (adhyatma jvana), the religious life (dharma jvana) and the ordinary human life of which morality is a pArt are three quite different things and one must know which one desires and not confuse the three together. The ordinary life is that of the average human consciousness separated from its own true self and from the Divine and led by the common habits of the mind, life and body which are the laws of the Ignorance.
  The religious life is a movement of the same ignorant human consciousness, turning or trying to turn away from the eArth towards the Divine but as yet without knowledge and led by the dogmatic tenets and rules of some sect or creed which claims to have found the way out of the bonds of the eArth-consciousness into some beatific Beyond. The religious life may be the first approach to the spiritual, but very often it is only a turning about in a round of rites, ceremonies and practices or set ideas and forms without any issue. The spiritual life, on the contrary, proceeds directly by a change of consciousness, a change from the ordinary consciousness, ignorant and separated from its true self and from God, to a greater consciousness in which one finds one's true being and comes first into direct and living contact and then into union with the Divine. For the spiritual seeker this change of consciousness is the one thing he seeks and nothing else matters.
  Morality is a pArt of the ordinary life; it is an attempt to govern the outward conduct by certain mental rules or to form the character by these rules in the image of a certain mental ideal. The spiritual life goes beyond the mind; it enters into the deeper consciousness of the Spirit and acts out of the truth of the Spirit.

01.04_-_Motives_for_Seeking_the_Divine, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  But of course that is not the spiritual life, it is only a sort of elementary religious approach. For the spiritual life to give and not to demand is the rule. The sadhak however can ask for the
  Divine Force to aid him in keeping his health or recovering it if he does that as pArt of his sadhana so that his body may be able and fit for the spiritual life and a capable instrument for the
  Divine Work.
  I have written all that only to explain what we mean when we speak of seeking the Divine for himself and not for anything else - so far as it is explicable. Explicable or not, it is one of the most dominant facts of spiritual experience. The call to selfgiving is only an expression of this fact. But this does not mean that I object to your asking for Ananda. Ask for that by all means, so long as to ask for it is a need of any pArt of your being
  - for these are the things that lead on towards the Divine so long as the absolute inner call that is there all the time does not push itself to the surface. But it is really that that has drawn from the beginning and is there behind - it is the categorical spiritual imperative, the absolute need of the soul for the Divine.

01.04_-_The_Secret_Knowledge, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  What now we see is a shadow of what must come.
  The eArth's uplook to a remote Unknown
  Is a preface only of the epic climb
  Of human soul from its flat eArthly state
  To the discovery of a greater self
  Even when we fail to look into our souls
  Or lie embedded in eArthly consciousness,
  Still have we pArts that grow towards the light,
  Yet are there luminous tracts and heavens serene
  And sometimes, when our sight is turned within,
  EArth's ignorant veil is lifted from our eyes;
  There is a short miraculous escape.
  We hear what mortal ears have never heard,
  We feel what eArthly sense has never felt,
  We love what common heArts repel and dread;
  Our minds hush to a bright Omniscient;
  And a diviner Presence moves the soul;
  Or through the eArthly coverings something breaks,
  A grace and beauty of spiritual light,
  A silence overhead, an inner voice,
  A living image seated in the heArt,
  An unwalled wideness and a fathomless point,
  And knows the goal of the unconscious world
  And the heArt of the mystery of the journeying years.
  \t:But all is screened, subliminal, mystical;
  It needs the intuitive heArt, the inward turn,
  It needs the power of a spiritual gaze.
  A flickering light in a strange ignorant world,
  The eArth a brute mechanic accident,
  A net of death in which by chance we live.
  The achievement done a passage or a phase
  Whose fArther end is hidden from our sight,
  A chance happening or a fortuitous fate.
  The dark Inconscient's signless mysteries
  Stand up unsolved behind Fate's stArting-line.
  An aspiration in the Night's profound,
  Only it hears, sole echo of its call,
  The dim reply in man's unknowing heArt
  And meets, not understanding why it came
  In the coiled blackness of her nescient course
  The EArth-Goddess toils across the sands of Time.
  A Being is in her whom she hopes to know,
  A Word speaks to her heArt she cannot hear,
  A Fate compels whose form she cannot see.
  Herself and all of which she is the sign.
  An inArticulate whisper drives her steps
  Of which she feels the force but not the sense;
  Our souls accept what our blind thoughts refuse.
  EArth's winged chimaeras are Truth's steeds in Heaven,
  The impossible God's sign of things to be.
  Or overleap this matted hedge of sense.
  All that transpires on eArth and all beyond
  Are pArts of an illimitable plan
  The One keeps in his heArt and knows alone.
  Our outward happenings have their seed within,
  Or end like the mastodon and the sloth
  And perish from the eArth where he was king.
  He is ignorant of the meaning of his life,
  Come maned with light from undiscovered worlds,
  Hear, while the world toils on with its deep blind heArt,
  The galloping hooves of the unforeseen event,
  Bearing the superhuman Rider, near
  And, impassive to eArth's din and stArtled cry,
  Return to the silence of the hills of God;
  Mutterings that brood in the core of Matter's sleep.
  In the heArt's profound audition they can catch
  The murmurs lost by Life's uncaring ear,
  Across the triumph, fighting and despair,
  They watch the Bliss for which eArth's heArt has cried
  On the long road which cannot see its end
  Thus will the masked Transcendent mount his throne.
  When darkness deepens strangling the eArth's breast
  And man's corporeal mind is the only lamp,
  The Truth-Light capture Nature by surprise,
  A stealth of God compel the heArt to bliss
  And eArth grow unexpectedly divine.
  In Matter shall be lit the spirit's glow,
  This is our deepest need to join once more
  What now is pArted, opposite and twain,
  Remote in sovereign spheres that never meet
  We must renew the secret bond in things,
  Our heArts recall the lost divine Idea,
  Reconstitute the perfect word, unite
  A rapture and a radiance and a hush,
  Delivered from the approach of wounded heArts,
  Denied to the Idea that looks at grief,
  Implacable in their timeless purity,
  All bArter or bribe of worship they refuse;
  Unmoved by cry of revolt and ignorant prayer
  Untouched while the long map of Fate unrolls,
  They look on our struggle with impArtial eyes,
  And yet without them cosmos could not be.
  Our dwarf-search mind to meet the Omniscient's light,
  Our helpless heArts to enshrine the Omnipotent's force.
  Acquiescing in the wisdom that made hell
  Acquiescing in the gradual steps of Time,
  Careless they seem of the grief that stings the world's heArt,
  Careless of the pain that rends its body and life;
  He makes no haste to untie the cosmic knot
  Or the world's torn jarring heArt to reconcile.
  In Time he waits for the Eternal's hour.
  The godhead promised to our struggling souls
  When first man's heArt dared death and suffered life.
  One who has shaped this world is ever its lord:
  We accept its face and pass by all it means;
  A pArt is seen, we take it for the whole.
  Thus have they made their play with us for roles:
  He moves there as the Soul, as Nature she.
  Here on the eArth where we must fill our pArts,
  We know not how shall run the drama's course;
  She has concealed her glory and her bliss
  And disguised the Love and Wisdom in her heArt;
  Of all the marvel and beauty that are hers,
  To her creative passion's ecstasy.
  Although possessor of the eArth and heavens,
  He leaves to her the cosmic management
  Active, inspired by her he speaks and moves;
  His deeds obey her heArt's unspoken demands:
  Passive, he bears the impacts of the world
  A witness and student of her joy and dole,
  A pArtner in her evil and her good,
  He has consented to her passionate ways,
  Her force that moves, her powers that save and slay,
  Her Word that in the silence speaks to our heArts,
  Her silence that transcends the summit Word,
  He seems the thing that she would have him seem,
  He is whatever her Artist will can make.
  Although she drives him on her fancy's roads,
  Driven by his own formidable Power,
  His chosen pArtner in a titan game,
  Her will he has made the master of his fate,
  In all experience meets her blissful hands;
  On his heArt he bears the happiness of her tread
  And the surprise of her arrival's joy
  Touching the moment with eternity.
  This transfiguration is eArth's due to heaven:
  A mutual debt binds man to the Supreme:
  A seeker of hidden meanings in life's forms,
  Of the great Mother s wide unchArted will
  And the rude enigma of her terrestrial ways
  He is the adventurer and cosmologist
  Of a magic eArth's obscure geography.
  In her material order's fixed design
  A voyager upon eternity's seas.
  In his world-adventure's crude initial stArt
  Behold him ignorant of his godhead's force,
  To reach unknown harbour lights in distant climes
  And open markets for life's opulent Arts,
  Rich bales, carved statuettes, hued canvases,
  Its images veiling infinity.
  EArth's borders recede and the terrestrial air
  Hangs round him no longer its translucent veil.
  Of mortal life for immortality.
  In the vessel of an eArthly embodiment
  Over the narrow rails of limiting sense
  Through a strange mid-world under supernal skies,
  Beyond eArth's longitudes and latitudes,
  His goal is fixed outside all present maps.
  Even when he sleeps, he keeps her on his breast:
  Whoever leaves her, he will not depArt
  To repose without her in the Unknowable.
  To evoke a Person in the impersonal Void,
  With the Truth-Light strike eArth's massive roots of trance,
  Wake a dumb self in the inconscient depths

01.05_-_The_Yoga_of_the_King_The_Yoga_of_the_Spirits_Freedom_and_Greatness, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
    Avid of the naked real's single shock
    He shore the cord of mind that ties the eArth-heArt
    And cast away the yoke of Matter's law.
    Lifted for a moment from mind's laboured works
    And the poverty of Nature's eArthly sight.
    All that the Gods have learned is there self-known.
    And Nature's correspondence with the soul
    Are written in the mystic heArt of Life.
    In the glow of the spirit's room of memories
    The will to live under a reign of death,
    The thirst for rapture in a heArt of flesh,
    And works out through the appearance of a soul
    In the Void he saw throned the Omniscience supreme.
    \tA Will, a hope immense now seized his heArt,
    And to discern the superhuman's form
    Outgrow its early grammar of intellect
    And its imitation of EArth-Nature's Art,
    Its eArthly dialect to God-language change,
    In living symbols study Reality
    The body illumined with the indwelling God,
    The heArt and mind feel one with all that is,
    A conscious soul live in a conscious world.
    And the compassionate Infinitudes.
    His height repelled the lowness of eArth's state:
    A wideness discontented with its frame
    Or all seems a misfit of half ideas,
    Or we saddle with the vice of eArthly form
    A hurried imperfect glimpse of heavenly things,
    Apings of knowledge, unfinished arcs of power,
    Flamings of beauty into eArthly shapes,
    Love's broken reflexes of unity
    Thought climbs in vain and brings a borrowed light,
    Cheated by counterfeits sold to us in life's mArt,
    Our heArts clutch at a forfeited heavenly bliss.
    There is provender for the mind's satiety,
    The Silence was his sole companion left.
    Impassive he lived immune from eArthly hopes,
    A figure in the ineffable Witness' shrine
    A universal light was in his eyes,
    A golden influx flowed through heArt and brain;
    A Force came down into his mortal limbs,
    A picture lost in far and fading streaks,
    The eArth-nature's summits sank below his feet:
    He climbed to meet the infinite more above.
    The ineffable Wideness knows him for its own.
    A lone forerunner of the Godward eArth,
    Among the symbols of yet unshaped things
    A nameless Marvel fills the motionless hours.
    His spirit mingles with eternity's heArt
    And bears the silence of the Infinite.
    Enveloped him with its stupendous limbs
    And penetrated nerve and heArt and brain
    That thrilled and fainted with the epiphany:
    Eternity's contact broke the moulds of sense.
    A greater Force than the eArthly held his limbs,
    Huge workings bared his undiscovered sheaths,
    The old adamantine vetoes stood no more:
    Overpowered were eArth and Nature's obsolete rule;
    The python coils of the restricting Law
    From an all-swallowing Immensity.
    The great hammer-beats of a pent-up world-heArt
    Burst open the narrow dams that keep us safe
    Her potencies of marvel-fraught design
    Courted employment by an eArth-nursed might.
    A conscious Nature's quick machinery
    Its powers can undo all Nature's work:
    Mind can suspend or change eArth's concrete law.
    Affranchised from eArth-habit's drowsy seal
    The leaden grip of Matter it can break;
    It makes the body's sleep a puissant arm,
    Holds still the breath, the beatings of the heArt,
    While the unseen is found, the impossible done,
    She meditates upon mighty words and looks
    On the unseen links that join the pArted spheres.
    Thence to the initiate who observes her laws
    And the formulas of their stupendous speech,
    Till heaven and hell become purveyors to eArth
    And the universe the slave of mortal will.
    And feigns for magic's freaks a binding cause.
    All worlds she makes the pArtners of her deeds,
    Accomplices of her mighty violence,
    Have woven her balanced web of miracles
    And the weird technique of her tremendous Art.
    This bizarre kingdom passed into his charge.
    \tA border sovereign is the occult Force.
    A threshold guardian of the eArth-scene's Beyond,
    She has canalised the outbreaks of the Gods
    And rose into its own eternities.
    The Inconscient found its heArt of consciousness,
    The idea and feeling groping in Ignorance
    The perfect rhythm now only sometimes dreamed
    An answer brought to the torn eArth's hungry need
    Rending the night that had concealed the Unknown,
    It lifted from an underground of pain
    The inArticulate murmur of our lives
    And found for it a sense illimitable.
    A larger Nature's great familiar roads.
    Affranchised from the net of eArthly sense
    Calm continents of potency were glimpsed;
    There he could enter, there awhile abide.
    A voyager upon unchArted routes
    Fronting the viewless danger of the Unknown,

02.01_-_Metaphysical_Thought_and_the_Supreme_Truth, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Something can be known but not otherwise."
  Any seeking of the supreme Truth through intellect alone must end either in Agnosticism of this kind or else in some intellectual system or mind-constructed formula. There have been hundreds of these systems and formulas and there can be hundreds more, but none can be definitive. Each may have its value for the mind, and different systems with their contrary conclusions can have an equal appeal to intelligences of equal power and competence. All this labour of speculation has its utility in training the human mind and helping to keep before it the idea of Something beyond and Ultimate towards which it must turn. But the intellectual Reason can only point vaguely or feel gropingly towards it or try to indicate pArtial and even conflicting aspects of its manifestation here; it cannot enter into and know it. As long as we remain in the domain of the intellect only, an impArtial pondering over all that has been thought and sought after, a constant throwing up of ideas, of all the possible ideas, and the formation of this or that philosophical belief, opinion or conclusion is all that can be done. This kind of disinterested search after Truth would be the only possible attitude for any wide and plastic intelligence. But any conclusion so arrived at would be only speculative; it could have no spiritual value; it would not give the decisive experience or the spiritual certitude for which the soul is seeking. If the intellect is our highest possible instrument and there is no other means of arriving at supraphysical Truth, then a wise and large Agnosticism must be our ultimate attitude. Things in the manifestation may be known to some degree, but the Supreme and all that is beyond the Mind must remain for ever unknowable.

02.01_-_The_World-Stair, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  subject:Integral Yoga
    A limitless movement filled a limitless peace.
    In a profound existence beyond eArth's
    Parent or kin to our ideas and dreams
    Missioned to him her mighty messages.
      The heaven-hints that invade our eArthly lives,
      The dire imaginations dreamed by Hell,
    All things occult and rare, remote and strange
    Were near to heArt's contact, felt by spirit-sense.
    Asking for entry at his nature's gates
    Or were his soul's natural environment.
    Tireless the heArt's adventure of delight,
    Endless the kingdoms of the Spirit's bliss,
      The absolute index to the Absolute.
    There walled apArt by its own innerness
    In a mystical barrage of dynamic light
    Mounting into great voiceless stillnesses
      It marries the eArth to screened eternities.
      Amid the many systems of the One
      Out of our long self-loss in Nature's deeps;
      Planted on eArth it holds in it all realms:
      It is a brief compendium of the Vast.
    Acting upon this visible Nature's scheme
    It wakens our eArth-matter's heavy doze
    To think and feel and to react to joy;
      It models in us our diviner pArts,
    Lifts mortal mind into a greater air,
    It labours towards a superconscient Light.
    If eArth were all and this were not in her,
    Thought could not be nor life-delight's response:
    Driven by an inanimate world-force.
    EArth by this golden superfluity
    Bore thinking man and more than man shall bear;
    An idol of self is our mortality.
    Our eArth is a fragment and a residue;
    Her power is packed with the stuff of greater worlds
    Unsatisfied forces in her bosom move;
    They are pArtners of her greater growing fate
    And her return to immortality;
    They consent to share her doom of birth and death;
      They kindle pArtial gleams of the All and drive
      Her blind laborious spirit to compose
    Approves her work and guides the unseeing Power.
    His vast design accepts a puny stArt.
    An attempt, a drawing half-done is the world's life;
    Yet some first image of greatness trembles there,
    And when the ambiguous crowded pArts have met
    The many-toned unity to which they moved,
    The Artist's joy shall laugh at reason's rules;
    The divine intention suddenly shall be seen,
    Of its dense rings were formed these million stars;
    Upon eArth's new-born soil God's tread was heard.
    Across the thick smoke of eArth's ignorance
    A Mind began to see and look at forms
    Deliver the zero carrier of the All.
    Because eternal eyes turned on eArth's gulfs
    The lucent clarity of a pure regard
    Inspires our ascent to viewless heights
    As once the abysmal leap to eArth and life.
    His call had reached the Traveller in Time.
    ApArt in an unfathomed loneliness,
    He travelled in his mute and single strength

02.02_-_The_Kingdom_of_Subtle_Matter, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  This little outer being's vast support
  PArted from vision by eArth's solid fence,
  He came into a magic crystal air
  A world of lovelier forms lies near to ours,
  Where, undisguised by eArth's deforming sight,
  All shapes are beautiful and all things true.
  Hearing was music and the touch a charm,
  And the heArt drew a deeper breath of power.
  There dwell eArth-nature's shining origins:
  The perfect plans on which she moulds her works,
  Its intercession with the eternal Ray
  Inspires our transient eArth's brief-lived attempts
  At beauty and the perfect shape of things.
  Take dream-hued rest like birds on timeless trees
  Before they dive to float on eArth-time's sea.
  All that here seems has lovelier semblance there.
  Whatever our heArts conceive, our heads create,
  Some high original beauty forfeiting,
  Thence exiled here consents to an eArthly tinge.
  Whatever is here of visible charm and grace
  Figures are there undreamed by mortal mind:
  Bodies that have no eArthly counterpArt
  Traverse the inner eye's illumined trance
  And ravish the heArt with their celestial tread
  Persuading heaven to inhabit that wonder sphere.
  The spirit's leap towards body touches ground.
  As yet unwrapped in eArthly lineaments,
  Already it wears outlasting death and birth,
  An abstract phantasm mould of mental make, -
  It feels what eArthly bodies cannot feel
  And is more real than this grosser frame.
  It drops old patterned palls of denser stuff,
  Cancels the grip of eArth's descending pull
  And bears the soul from world to higher world,
  But when it must come back to its mortal load
  And the hard ensemble of eArth's experience,
  Then its return resumes that heavier dress.
  For long before eArth's solid vest was forged
  By the technique of the atomic Void,
  Invests with grace the demon and the snake.
  Its trance imposes eArth's inconscience,
  Immortal it weaves for us death's sombre robe
  Touching things common with transfiguring hues
  Till even eArth's mud grows rich and warm with the skies
  And a glory gleams from the soul's decadence.
  Its knowledge is our error's stArting-point;
  Its beauty dons our mud-mask ugliness,
  Its Artist good begins our evil's tale.
  A heaven of creative truths above,
  Sunk into inanimate and torpid drowse
  EArth lay, a drudge of sleep, forced to create
  By a subconscient yearning memory
  To a blind force and an imprisoned soul.
  An immortal godhead's perishable pArts
  She must reconstitute from fragments lost,
  A Splendour presses or a Power breaks through,
  EArth's great dull barrier is removed awhile,
  The inconscient seal is lifted from our eyes
  A joyful anguish trembles in our limbs;
  A dream of beauty dances through the heArt,
  A thought from the eternal Mind draws near,
  Are taken from us and, though a glowing form
  Abides astonishing eArth, imagined supreme,
  Too little of what was meant has left a trace.
  EArth's eyes half-see, her forces half-create;
  Her rarest works are copies of heaven's Art.
  A radiance of a golden Artifice,
  A masterpiece of inspired device and rule,
  His genius born from an inconscient soil.
  To copy on eArth's copies is his Art.
  For when he strives for things surpassing eArth,
  Too rude the workman's tools, too crude his stuff,
  And hardly with his heArt's blood he achieves
  His transient house of the divine Idea,
  And would bring down their dateless meanings here,
  But, too divine for eArthly Nature's scheme,
  Beyond our reach the eternal marvels blaze.
  The figures of eternity arrive.
  As the mind's visitors or the heArt's guests
  They espouse our mortal brevity awhile,
  And the hidden miracle of our destiny.
  What we are there and here on eArth shall be
  Is imaged in a contact and a call.
  As yet eArth's imperfection is our sphere,
  Our nature's glass shows not our real self;
  That greatness still abides held back within.
  EArth's doubting future hides our heritage:
  The Light now distant shall grow native here,
  And it communicates with greater worlds;
  There are brighter eArths and wider heavens than ours.
  There are realms where Being broods in its own depths;
  The Spirit holds up its mirrored self and works,
  The power and passion of its timeless heArt,
  The figures of its formless ecstasy,
  Initiate of unspoken verities,
  Dreams to transcribe and make a pArt of life
  In its own native style and living tongue
  And spirit is not hampered by its frame
  And heArts by sharp division seized and rent
  And delight and beauty are inhabitants
  A finer substance in a subtler mould
  Embodies the divinity eArth but dreams;
  Its strength can overtake joy's running feet;
  Immune from our inertia of response
  It hears the word to which our heArts are deaf,
  Adopts the seeing of immortal eyes
  Beauty is his footprint showing us where he has passed,
  Love is his heArt-beats' rhythm in mortal breasts,
  Happiness the smile on his adorable face.
  And passion of their close identity.
  All that we slowly piece from gathered pArts,
  Or by long labour stumblingly evolve,
  In us too the intuitive Fire can burn;
  An agent Light, it is coiled in our folded heArts,
  On the celestial levels is its home:
  Content to be, it has need of nothing more.
  Here was not futile effort's broken heArt:
  Exempt from the ordeal and the test,
  A perfect picture in a perfect frame,
  This faery Artistry could not keep his will:
  Only a moment's fine release it gave;

02.03_-_The_Glory_and_the_Fall_of_Life, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  A journey of countless paths without a close.
  Nothing he found to satisfy his heArt;
  A tireless wandering sought and could not cease.
  As if all possibility must be drained,
  And anguish and bliss were pastimes of the heArt.
  In a gallop of thunder-hooved vicissitudes
  She writhed, a worm mid worms in Nature's mud,
  Then, Titan-statured, took all eArth for food,
  Ambitioned the seas for robe, for crown the stars
  This now revealed its antique face of joy,
  A sudden disclosure to the heArt of grief
  Tempting it to endure and long and hope.
  An archipelago of laughter and fire,
  Swam stars apArt in a rippled sea of sky.
  Towered spirals, magic rings of vivid hue
  Of their immortal gladness they live sure.
  ApArt in their self-glory plunged, remote
  Burning they swam in a vague lucent haze,
  Too high and glad for mortal lids to seize.
  But near and real to the longing heArt
  And to the body's passionate thought and sense
  Imagined scenes or great eternal worlds,
  Dream-caught or sensed, they touch our heArts with their depths;
  Unreal-seeming, yet more real than life,
  If dreams these were or captured images,
  Dream's truth made false eArth's vain realities.
  In a swift eternal moment fixed there live
  Took now a close shape of reality.
  The gulf between dream-truth, eArth-fact was crossed,
  The wonder-worlds of life were dreams no more;
  His vision made all they unveiled its own:
  Their scenes, their happenings met his eyes and heArt
  And smote them with pure loveliness and bliss.
  Sleep imitated awhile extinction's peace.
  The light of God she has pArted from his dark
  To test the savour of bare opposites.
  Here mingling in man's heArt their tones and hues
  Have woven his being's mutable design,
  Broke through, a ray of the original Bliss.
  Heaven's joys might have been eArth's if eArth were pure.
  There could have reached our divinised sense and heArt
  Some natural felicity's bright extreme,
  Some thrill of Supernature's absolutes:
  All strengths could laugh and sport on eArth's hard roads
  And never feel her cruel edge of pain,
  A flaming rhapsody of white desire
  Lured an immortal music into the heArt
  And woke the slumbering ear of ecstasy.
  A purer, fierier sense had there its home,
  A burning urge no eArthly limbs can hold;
  One drew a large unburdened spacious breath
  And the heArt sped from beat to rapturous beat.
  The voice of Time sang of the Immortal's joy;
  Of mastery's joy and the joy of servitude
  Imposed by Love on Love's heArt that obeys
  And Love's body held beneath a rapturous yoke.
  The ruler there is one with all he rules;
  To him who serves with a free equal heArt
  Obedience is his princely training's school,
  Till all her body was its transparent house
  And all her soul a counterpArt of his soul.
  Apotheosised, transfigured by wisdom's touch,
  Worlds were there of a childlike mirth and joy;
  A carefree youthfulness of mind and heArt
  Found in the body a heavenly instrument;
  Flung like a divine largess to the world.
  A spell to force the heArt to stark delight,
  They carried the pride and mastery of their charm
  Knowledge was Nature's pastime like the rest.
  Investitured with the fresh heArt's bright ray,
  An early God-instinct's child inheritors,
  The breadth and greatness of the unfettered act
  And the swift fire-heArt's golden liberty.
  There was no falsehood of soul-severance,
  In her bosom bearing the eternal Will,
  No guide she needed but her luminous heArt:
  No fall debased the godhead of her steps,
  All this seemed only a bright desirable dream
  Conceived in a longing distance by the heArt
  Of one who walks in the shadow of eArth-pain.
  Although he once had felt the Eternal's clasp,
  In the crude beginnings of this mortal world
  Life was not nor mind's play nor heArt's desire.
  When eArth was built in the unconscious Void
  And nothing was save a material scene,
  In the uncaring trance it groped for sight,
  Passioned for the movements of a conscious heArt,
  Famishing for speech and thought and joy and love,
  Smote with her charm and beauty flesh and nerve
  And forced delight on eArth's insensible frame.
  Alive and clad with trees and herbs and flowers
  EArth's great brown body smiled towards the skies,
  Azure replied to azure in the sea's laugh;
  But while the magic breath was on its way,
  Before her gifts could reach our prisoned heArts,
  A dark ambiguous Presence questioned all.

02.04_-_The_Kingdoms_of_the_Little_Life, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  To fill the aching and disastrous gap
  Between eArth-pain and the bliss from which Life fell.
  A world that ever seeks for something missed,
  Hunts for the joy that eArth has failed to keep.
  Too near to our gates its unappeased unrest
  For peace to live on the inert solid globe:
  It has joined its hunger to the hunger of eArth,
  It has given the law of craving to our lives,
  A shadow overcast the time-born race;
  In the troubled stream where leaps a blind heArt-pulse
  And the nerve-beat of feeling wakes in sense
  There strayed a call that knew not why it came.
  A Power beyond eArth's scope has touched the eArth;
  The repose that might have been can be no more;
  A formless yearning passions in man's heArt,
  A cry is in his blood for happier things:
  Or live happy, unmoved, like flowers and trees.
  The Might that came upon the eArth to bless,
  Has stayed on eArth to suffer and aspire.
  The infant laugh that rang through time is hushed:
  In him Matter wakes from its long obscure trance,
  In him eArth feels the Godhead drawing near.
  An eyeless Power that sees no more its aim,
  Alive with her yearning woke the inert cell,
  In the heArt she kindled a fire of passion and need,
  Amid the deep calm of inanimate things
  Her anguished claim to her lost sovereign right,
  Her tireless search, her vexed uneasy heArt,
  Her wandering unsure steps, her cry for change.
  Matter dissatisfies, she turns to Mind;
  She conquers eArth, her field, then claims the heavens.
  Insensible, breaking the work she has done
  In this slow ascension he must follow her pace
  Even from her faint and dim subconscious stArt:
  So only can eArth's last salvation come.
  For so only could he know the obscure cause
  But mastering thought was not nor cause nor rule,
  Only a crude child-heArt cried for toys of bliss,
  Mind flickered, a disordered infant glow,
  But still was a mechanical response,
  A jerk, a leap, a stArt in Nature's dream,
  And rude unchastened impulses jostling ran
  As shines a solitary witness star
  That burns apArt, Light's lonely sentinel,
  In the drift and teeming of a mindless Night,
  In beast and in winged bird and thinking man
  It made of the heArt's rhythm its music's beat;
  It forced the unconscious tissues to awake
  Born strangely in Time from the eternal Bliss,
  It presses on heArt's core and vibrant nerve;
  Its sharp self-seeking tears our consciousness;
  Inflicting still its habit on the cells
  The phantom of a dark and evil stArt
  Ghostlike pursues all that we dream and do.
  Although on eArth are firm established lives,
  A working of habit or a sense of law,
  A Wisdom that prepares its far-off ends
  Planned so to stArt her slow aeonic game.
  A blindfold search and wrestle and fumbling clasp
  Where deed is all and mind is still half-born
  And the heArt obeys a dumb unseen control.
  The Force that works by the light of Ignorance,
  It captured not the spirit in the form,
  It entered not the heArt of what it saw;
  It looked not for the power behind the act,
  Obeying the World-Power's hints and firm taboos
  A scanty pArt they drew from her rich store;
  There was no conscious code and no life-plan:
  Those like himself, by blood or custom kin,
  To him were pArts of his life, his adjunct selves,
  His personal nebula's constituent stars,
  A leader of a huddled human mass
  Herding for safety on a dangerous eArth,
  He gathered them round him as if minor Powers
  To make a common front against the world,
  Or, weak and sole on an indifferent eArth,
  As a fortress for his undefended heArt,
  Or else to heal his body's loneliness.
  None thought to look beyond the hour's gains,
  Or dreamed to make this eArth a fairer world,
  Or felt some touch divine surprise his heArt.
  The gladness that the fugitive moment gave,
  A first raw vintage of the grapes of God,
  On eArth's mud a spilth of the supernal Bliss,
  Intoxicating the stupefied soul and mind
  A casual colloquy of flesh with flesh,
  A murmur of heArt to longing wordless heArt,
  Glimmerings of knowledge with no shape of thought
  To sate awhile dwarf lusts and brief desires,
  In a death-closed passage saw life's stArt and end
  As though a blind alley were creation's sign,

02.05_-_The_Godheads_of_the_Little_Life, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  A trepidant and motley multitude,
  A strange pell-mell of magic Artisans,
  Was seen moulding the plastic clay of life,
  Astonished by the unaccustomed glow,
  As if immanent in the shadows stArted up
  Imps with wry limbs and carved beast visages,
  Out of the greyness of a dim background
  Their whispers come, an inArticulate force,
  Awake in mind an echoing thought or word,
  To their sting of impulse the heArt's sanction draw,
  And in that little Nature do their work
  While jogs on devious ways that nowhere lead
  Life's cArt finding no issue from ignorance.
  To sport with good and evil is their law;
  To all half-conscious worlds they extend their reign.
  Here too these godlings drive our human heArts,
  Our nature's twilight is their lurking-place:
  Here too the darkened primitive heArt obeys
  The veiled suggestions of a hidden Mind
  And reason used by an irrational Force.
  This eArth is not alone our teacher and nurse;
  The powers of all the worlds have entrance here.
  And cherish the safety of a settled type;
  On eArth out of their changeless orbit thrown
  Their law is kept, lost their fixed form of things.
  Where all asks order but is driven by Chance;
  Strangers to eArth-nature, they must learn eArth's ways,
  Aliens or opposites, they must unite:
  They work and battle and with pain agree:
  These join, those pArt, all pArts and joins anew,
  But never can we know and truly live
  To ignorant purposes and blind desires
  Our heArts are moved by an ambiguous force;
  Even our mind's conquests wear a battered crown.
  By spending it conserved an endless sum.
  On the heArth of Space it kindled a viewless Fire
  That, scattering worlds as one might scatter seeds,
  An ocean of electric Energy
  Formlessly formed its strange wave-pArticles
  Constructing by their dance this solid scheme,
  As witnesses of an objective world
  His erring sense and his instruments' Artifice.
  Thus must he work life's tangible riddle out
  In a doubtful light, by error seize on Truth
  And slowly pArt the visage and the veil.
  Or else, forlorn of faith in mind and sense,
  The Force concealed broke dumbly, slowly out.
  A dream of living woke in Matter's heArt,
  A will to live moved the Inconscient's dust,
  A freak of living stArtled vacant Time,
  Ephemeral in a blank eternity,
  Yet broke into beauty signing some deep delight:
  An inArticulate sensibility,
  Throbs of the heArt of an unknowing world,
  Ran through its somnolent torpor and there stirred
  Charged with world-power, instinct with living force,
  Only she clung with her roots to the safe eArth,
  Thrilled dumbly to the shocks of ray and breeze
  And in a body lit the miracle
  Of the heArt's love and the soul's witness gaze.
  Impelled by an unseen Will there could break out
  An animal creation crept and ran
  And flew and called between the eArth and sky,
  Hunted by death but hoping still to live
  A quick celestial flash could sometimes come:
  The illumined soul-ray fell on heArt and flesh
  And touched with semblances of ideal light
  The stuff of which our eArthly dreams are made.
  A fragile human love that could not last,
  And passions that crumble to ashes while they blaze
  Kindled the common eArth with their brief flame.
  A creature insignificant and small
  Visited, uplifted by an unknown Power,
  Man laboured on his little patch of eArth
  For means to last, to enjoy, to suffer and die.
  And stood behind the little personal form
  But claimed not yet this eArthly embodiment.
  Assenting to Nature's long slow-moving toil,
  It hides a key to inner meanings missed,
  It locks in our heArts a voice we cannot hear.
  An enigmatic labour of the spirit,
  An exact machine of which none knows the use,
  An Art and ingenuity without sense,
  This minute elaborate orchestrated life
  Impenetrable, a mystery recondite
  Is the vast plan of which we are a pArt;
  Its harmonies are discords to our view
  Our will tunes not with the eternal Will,
  Our heArt's sight is too blind and passionate.
  Impotent to share in Nature's mystic tact,
  But with those shadowy seats no converse hold;
  No understanding binds our comrade pArts;
  Our acts emerge from a crypt our minds ignore.
  Even our body is a mystery shop;
  As our eArth's roots lurk screened below our eArth,
  So lie unseen our roots of mind and life.
  And echoes from the dun subconscient caves,
  Speech leaps, thought quivers, the heArt vibrates, the will
  Answers and tissue and nerve obey the call.
  Ignorant themselves of their own fount of strength
  They play their pArt in the enormous whole.
  Agents of darkness imitating light,
  Only to Titan force their will lies prone.
  Inordinate their hold on human heArts,
  In all our nature's turns they intervene.
  And engineers of interest and desire,
  Out of crude eArthiness and muddy thrills
  And coarse reactions of material nerve
  And the ill-lighted mansions of our thought,
  Or with the ego's factories and mArts
  Surround the beautiful temple of the soul.
  Artists minute of the hues of littleness,
  They set the mosaic of our comedy
  And the fantasia of the moods costume.
  These unwise prompters of man's ignorant heArt
  And tutors of his stumbling speech and will,
  Movers of petty wraths and lusts and hates
  And changeful thoughts and shallow emotion's stArts,
  These slight illusion-makers with their masks,
  Ourselves incapable to build our fate
  Only as actors speak and strut our pArts
  Until the piece is done and we pass off
  As long as intellect's outward-gazing sight
  Serves eArthy interest and creature joys,
  An incurable littleness pursues his days.
  Ever since consciousness was born on eArth,
  Life is the same in insect, ape and man,
  A leonine greatness that would tear his soul
  If through his failing limbs and fainting heArt
  The sweet and joyful mighty madness swept:
  A touch of friendship mid indifferent crowds
  Draw his heArt-plan on life's diminutive map.
  If something great awakes, too frail his pitch
  His thought to eternise its ephemeral soar,
  Art's brilliant gleam is a pastime for his eyes,
  A thrill that smites the nerves is music's spell.
  He would make a splendid haste on Fate's slow road,
  His heArt that runs soon pants and tires and sinks;
  Or he walks ever on and finds no end.
  Fenced off the greatnesses of hidden God.
  His being was formed to play a trivial pArt
  In a little drama on a petty stage;
  Only religion in this bankruptcy
  Presents its dubious riches to our heArts
  Or signs unprovisioned cheques on the Beyond:
  Our poverty shall there have its revenge.
  Our spirits depArt discarding a futile life
  Into the blank unknown or with them take
  An early attempt, a first experiment.
  This was a toy to amuse the infant eArth;
  But knowledge ends not in these surface powers
  The world quivers with a God-light at its core,
  In Time's deep heArt high purposes move and live,
  Life's borders crumble and join infinity.
  Our lives a deeper mystery than we have dreamed;
  Our minds are stArters in the race to God,
  Our souls deputed selves of the Supreme.
  Flows through the guarded spaces of the soul;
  A force that helps supports the suffering eArth,
  An unseen nearness and a hidden joy.
  An exultation in the depths of sleep,
  A heArt of bliss within a world of pain.
  An Infant nursed on Nature's covert breast,
  That sees the unseen and plans eternity,
  Our smallest pArts have room for deepest needs;
  There too the golden Messengers can come:
  And flashes of sympathy and tenderness
  Cast heaven-lights from the heArt's secluded shrine.
  A work is done in the deep silences;
  Lulled by Time's beats eternity sleeps in us.
  In the sealed hermetic heArt, the happy core,
  Unmoved behind this outer shape of death
  Our will lifts towards it slow and shaping hands.
  Each pArt in us desires its absolute.
  Our thoughts covet the everlasting Light,
  Even here where all is made of being's dust,
  Our heArts are captured by ensnaring shapes,
  Our very senses blindly seek for bliss.
  It shall learn at last who lived within unseen,
  And seized with marvel in the adoring heArt
  To the enthroned Child-Godhead kneel aware,
  And climb to summits beyond mind's half-sleep;
  Our heArts we must inform with heavenly strength,
  Surprise the animal with the occult god.
  In the wounded gloom complaining against light.
  A huge obstruction its immobile heArt,
  The watching opacity multiplied as he moved

02.06_-_The_Integral_Yoga_and_Other_Yogas, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Those who seek the self by the old Yogas separate themselves from mind, life and body and realise the self apArt from these things. It is perfectly easy to separate mind, vital and physical from each other without the need of supermind. It is done by the ordinary Yogas.
  I know very well also that there have been seemingly allied ideals and anticipations - the perfectibility of the race, certain
  Tantric sadhanas, the effort after a complete physical siddhi by certain schools of Yoga, etc. etc. I have alluded to these things myself and have put forth the view that the spiritual past of the race has been a preparation of Nature not merely for attaining to the Divine beyond this world, but also for this very step forward which the evolution of the eArth-consciousness has still to make.
  It is new as compared with the old Yogas:
  (1) Because it aims not at a depArture out of world and life into a Heaven or a Nirvana, but at a change of life and existence, not as something subordinate or incidental, but as a distinct and central object. If there is a descent in other Yogas, yet it is only an incident on the way or resulting from the ascent - the ascent is the real thing. Here the ascent is indispensable, but what is decisive, what is finally aimed at is the resulting descent. It is the descent of the new consciousness attained by the ascent that is the stamp and seal of the sadhana. Even Tantra and Vaishnavism end in the release from life; here the object is the divine fulfilment of life.
  (2) Because the object sought after is not an individual achievement of divine realisation for the sole sake of the individual, but something to be gained for the eArth-consciousness here, a cosmic, not solely a supra-cosmic achievement. The thing to be gained also is the bringing in of a Power of consciousness
  (the supramental) not yet organised or active directly in eArthnature, even in the spiritual life, but yet to be organised and made directly active.
  (3) Because a method has been preconised for achieving this purpose which is as total and integral as the aim set before it, viz. the total and integral change of the consciousness and nature, taking up old methods but only as a pArt action and passing on to others that are distinctive. I have not found this method (as a whole) or anything like it in its totality proposed or realised in the old Yogas. If I had I should not have wasted my time in hewing out a road and in thirty years of search and inner creation when I could have hastened home safely to my goal in an easy canter over paths already blazed out, laid down, perfectly mapped, macadamised, made secure and public. Our
  Yoga is not a retreading of old walks, but a spiritual adventure.
  I meant by it the descent of the supramental Consciousness upon eArth; all truths below the supramental
  (even that of the highest spiritual on the mental plane, which is the highest that has yet manifested) are either pArtial or relative or otherwise deficient and unable to transform the eArthly life, they can only at most modify and influence it. The supermind is the last Truth-consciousness of which the ancient seers spoke; there have been glimpses of it till now, sometimes an indirect influence or pressure, but it has not been brought down into the consciousness of the eArth and fixed there. To bring it down is the aim of our Yoga.
  The Vedic Rishis never attained to the supermind for the eArth or perhaps did not even make the attempt. They tried to rise individually to the supramental plane, but they did not bring it down and make it a permanent pArt of the eArthconsciousness. Even there are verses of the Upanishad in which it is hinted that it is impossible to pass through the gates of the Sun (the symbol of the supermind) and yet retain an eArthly body. It was because of this failure that the spiritual effort of
  India culminated in Mayavada. Our Yoga is a double movement of ascent and descent; one rises to higher and higher levels of consciousness, but at the same time one brings down their power not only into mind and life, but in the end even into the body.
  And the highest of these levels, the one at which it aims is the supermind. Only when that can be brought down is a divine transformation possible in the eArth-consciousness.
  Yoga, one can realise the psychic being as a portion of the
  Divine seated in the heArt with the Divine supporting it there
  - this psychic being takes charge of the sadhana and turns the whole being to the Truth and the Divine, with results in the mind, the vital, the physical consciousness which I need not go into here, - that is a first transformation. We realise it next as the one Self, Brahman, Divine, first above the body, life, mind and not only within the heArt supporting them - above and free and unattached as the static Self but also extended in wideness through the world as the silent Self in all and dynamic too as the active Divine Being and Power, Ishwara-Shakti, containing the world and pervading it as well as transcending it, manifesting all cosmic aspects. But, what is most important for us, is that it manifests as a transcending Light, Knowledge,
  Power, Purity, Peace, Ananda of which we become aware above and which descends into the being and progressively replaces the ordinary consciousness by its own movements - that is the second transformation. We realise also the consciousness itself as moving upward, ascending through many planes physical, vital, mental, overmental to the supramental and Ananda planes.

02.06_-_The_Kingdoms_and_Godheads_of_the_Greater_Life, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  And the birth of that which never yet could be,
  And joy of the mind's hazard, the heArt's choice,
  Grace of the unknown and hands of sudden surprise
  Compelled belief on the enamoured thought
  And drew the heArt but led it to no goal.
  A magic flowed as if of moving scenes
  That kept awhile their fugitive delicacy
  Of sparing lines limned by an abstract Art
  In a rare scanted light with faint dream-brush
  Yet was content with fragments pushed in front
  And pArts of living that belied the whole
  But, pieced together, might one day be true.
  And crowded with undertones of life's rhythmic cry,
  Could write itself on the heArts of living things.
  In an outbreak of the might of secret Spirit,
  Some glory of knowledge and intuitive sight,
  Some passion of the rapturous heArt of Love.
  A hierophant of the bodiless Secrecy
  Illumined by a vision in the thought,
  Upbuoyed by the heArt's understanding flame,
  It could hold in the conscious ether of the spirit
  And all we have not known nor ever sought
  Which yet one day must be born in human heArts
  That the Timeless may fulfil itself in things.
  She follows her sublime irrational plan,
  Invents devices of her magic Art
  To find new bodies for the Infinite
  And yet she cannot choose but labours on;
  Her mighty heArt forbids her to desist.
  As long as the world lasts her failure lives
  An icon of truth, a conscious mystery's shape.
  It lingered not like the eArth-mind hemmed in
  In solid barriers of apparent fact;
  Beauty and good and truth its godheads are.
  It is near to heavenlier heavens than eArth's eyes see,
  A direr darkness than man's life can bear:
  It has kinship with the demon and the god.
  A strange enthusiasm has moved its heArt;
  It hungers for heights, it passions for the supreme.
  On every plane, this Greatness must create.
  On eArth, in heaven, in hell she is the same;
  Of every fate she takes her mighty pArt.
  A guardian of the fire that lights the suns,
  The Wonder-worker gave her at her birth,
  ImpArts to drowsy formlessness a shape,
  Reveals a world where nothing was before.
  Flashes through the frail nerves poignant messages,
  In a heArt of flesh miraculously loves,
  To brute bodies gives a soul, a will, a voice.
  Its acts are her commerce with her hidden Guest,
  His moods she takes for her heArt's passionate moulds;
  In beauty she treasures the sunlight of his smile.
  Lest from her arms he turn to his formless peace,
  Is her heArt's business and her clinging care.
  Yet when he is most near, she feels him far.
  And keep him as her cherished prisoner
  That never they may pArt again in Time.
  A sumptuous chamber of the spirit's sleep
  Even in our world a mystery has reigned
  EArth's cunning screen of trivial plainness hides;
  Her larger levels are of sorceries made.
  There is a secrecy of hidden sense.
  Although no eArthen mask weighs on her face,
  Into herself she flees from her own sight.
  A steward of the Person and his fate.
  This was transition-line and stArting-point,
  A first immigration into heavenliness,
  For all who cross into that brilliant sphere:
  These are the kinsmen of our eArthly race;
  This region borders on our mortal state.
  Entire, not pulled as we by contrary tides,
  They follow the unseen leader in the heArt,
  Their lives obey the inner nature's law.
  And shines with the lustre of a distant star;
  There is a knowledge in the heArt of sleep
  And Nature comes to them as a conscious force.
  Too far to reach, passionate they follow her light;
  In Art and life they catch the All-Beautiful's ray
  And make the world their radiant treasure house:
  There Matter is soul's result and not its cause.
  In a contrary balance to eArth's truth of things
  The gross weighs less, the subtle counts for more;
  Thought looked at thought and had no need of speech;
  Emotion clasped emotion in two heArts,
  They felt each other's thrill in the flesh and nerves
  Another's joy exulting ran through the blood:
  HeArts could draw close through distance, voices near
  That spoke upon the shore of alien seas.
  The being could be closed in and solitary;
  One could remain apArt in self, alone.
  Identity was not yet nor union's peace.
  Looking towards a wider source beyond.
  For as she drew away from eArthly lines,
  A tenser drag was felt from the Unknown,
  And the beauty of her flowers of dream and muse.
  As if a miracle of heArt's change by joy
  He watched in the alchemist radiance of her suns
  In that life more concrete than the lives of men
  Throbbed heArt-beats of the hidden reality:
  Embodied was there what we but think and feel,
  Her mind that toils unsatisfied with its fruits,
  Her heArt that captures not the one Beloved.
  Always he met a veiled and seeking Force,
  This sole is real in apparent things,
  Even upon eArth the spirit is life's key,
  But her solid outsides nowhere bear its trace.
  Is found, is hinted some interpreting word
  That makes the eArth-myth a tale intelligible.
  Something was seen at last that looked like truth.
  Listens to a thousand-voiced illusion's ode.
  A delicate weft of sorcery steals the heArt
  Or a fiery magic tints her tones and hues,
  But miss the luminous answer of the soul.
  A blind heArt-throb that reaches joy through tears,
  A yearning towards peaks for ever unreached,
  Or lingers upon sweet and errant notes
  Hunting for pleasure in the heArt of pain.
  A fateful hand has touched the cosmic chords
  For nothing is truly vain the One has made:
  In our defeated heArts God's strength survives
  And victory's star still lights our desperate road;
  To all she lends the glory of her voice;
  Heaven's raptures whisper to her heArt and pass,
  EArth's transient yearnings cry from her lips and fade.
  Alone the God-given hymn escapes her Art
  That came with her from her spiritual home
  A sumptuous interlude occupies the ear
  And the heArt listens and the soul consents;
  An evanescent music it repeats
  Of the eternal Word, the blissful Voice
  Or Beauty's touch transfiguring heArt and sense,
  A wandering splendour and a mystic cry,
  Her depths remember what she came to do,
  But the mind has forgotten or the heArt mistakes:
  In Nature's endless lines is lost the God.
  In action to erect the Omnipotent,
  To create her Creator here was her heArt's conceit,
  To invade the cosmic scene with utter God.
  Make body's joy as vivid as the soul's,
  EArth she would lift to neighbourhood with heaven,
  Labours life to equate with the Supreme
  Here the half-god, the half-titan are her peak:
  This greater life wavers twixt eArth and sky.
  A poignant paradox pursues her dreams:
  The law and journeying curve of all things born
  Her knowledge pArtial seems, her purpose small;
  On a soil of yearning tread her sumptuous hours.
  The wheel of works ran with him and outstripped;
  Always a fArther task was left to do.
  A beat of action and a cry of search
  For ever grew in that unquiet world;
  A busy murmur filled the heArt of Time.
  All was contrivance and unceasing stir.
  A market of creation and her wares,
  Was offered to the labouring mind and heArt.
  A circuit ending where it first began
  Each final scheme leads to a sequel plan.
  Yet every new depArture seems the last,
  Inspired evangel, theory's ultimate peak,
  A dream persists of larger happier air
  Breathing around free heArts of joy and love,
  Forgotten by us, immortal in lost Time.
  Half-way between God's silence and the Abyss.
  This knowledge in our hidden pArts we keep;
  Awake to a vague mystery's appeal,
  Our being's natural felicity,
  Our heArt's delight we have exchanged for grief,
  The body's thrill we bArtered for mere pain,
  The bliss for which our mortal nature yearns
  And bring perfection to the scheme of things.
  One day he shall descend to life and eArth,
  Leaving the secrecy of the eternal doors,
  One day he shall lift his beauty's dreadful veil,
  Impose delight on the world's beating heArt
  And bare his secret body of light and bliss."

02.07_-_The_Descent_into_Night, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
    A MIND absolved from life, made calm to know,
    A heArt divorced from the blindness and the pang,
    The seal of tears, the bond of ignorance,
    The grey Mask whispered and, though no sound was heard,
    Yet in the ignorant heArt a seed was sown
    That bore black fruit of suffering, death and bale.
    Life looked at him with changed and sombre eyes:
    Her beauty he saw and the yearning heArt in things
    That with a little happiness is content,
    And the charm of children and the love of friends
    And the beauty of women and kindly heArts of men,
    But saw too the dreadful Powers that drive her moods
    It hunted the bright smile from Nature's lips
    And slew the native confidence in her heArt
    And put fear's crooked look into her eyes.
    Its dangerous commerce is our suffering's cause.
    Its breath is a subtle poison in men's heArts;
    All evil stArts from that ambiguous face.
    A peril haunted now the common air;
    And wherever turned for help or hope his eyes,
    In field and house, in street and camp and mArt
    He met the prowl and stealthy come and go
    Yet nothing would confess its own pretence
    Even to itself in the ambiguous heArt:
    A vast deception was the law of things;
    And left a cloven hoof-mark on the breast;
    A twisted heArt and a strange sombre smile
    Mocked at the sinister comedy of life.
    Attack sprang suddenly vehement and unseen;
    Fear leaped upon the heArt at every turn
    And cried out with an anguished dreadful voice;
    Truth was exiled lest she should dare to speak
    And hurt the heArt of darkness with her light
    Or bring her pride of knowledge to blaspheme
    Gave to a rude and ruthless warrior kind
    Drawn from the savage bowels of the eArth
    A proud stern poise of harsh nobility,
    The position of a dead remembered star.
    Only were safe who kept God in their heArts:
    Courage their armour, faith their sword, they must walk,
    Neighbouring proud palaces of perverted Power,
    Inhuman quArters and demoniac wards.
    A pride in evil hugged its wretchedness;
    And sordid imaginations etched in flesh,
    Turned lust into a decorative Art:
    Abusing Nature's gift her pervert skill
    Gave caricature a stark reality,
    And Art-parades of weird distorted forms,
    And gargoyle masques obscene and terrible
    Worship was offered to the Undivine.
    A new aesthesis of Inferno's Art
    That trained the mind to love what the soul hates,
    In this regime that soiled the being's core,
    Beauty was banned, the heArt's feeling dulled to sleep
    And cherished in their place sensation's thrills;
    All that was there was on this pattern made.
    A race possessed inhabited those pArts.
    A force demoniac lurking in man's depths
    That heaves suppressed by the heArt's human law,
    Awed by the calm and sovereign eyes of Thought,
    Can in a fire and eArthquake of the soul
    Arise and, calling to its native night,
    With the stony eyelids of its fixed idea.
    Its heArt was drunk with a dire hunger's wine,
    In others' suffering felt a thrilled delight
    It claimed the whole world for Evil's living room,
    Its pArty's grim totalitarian reign
    The cruel destiny of breathing things.
    The demon and the goblin and the ghoul.
    An insolence reigned of cold stone-heArted strength
    Mighty, obeyed, approved by the Titan's law,
    While mitred, holding the good shepherd's staff,
    Falsehood enthroned on awed and prostrate heArts
    The cults and creeds that organise living death
    A deafened acquiescence gave its vote,
    And braggArt dogmas shouted in the night
    Kept for the fallen soul once deemed a god
    A darkness grim and cold benumbed his flesh,
    A whispered grey suggestion chilled his heArt;
    Haled by a serpent-force from its warm home

02.08_-_The_World_of_Falsehood,_the_Mother_of_Evil_and_the_Sons_of_Darkness, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  subject:Integral Yoga
  THEN could he see the hidden heArt of Night:
  The labour of its stark unconsciousness
  A Nature that denied the eternal Truth
  In the vain braggArt freedom of its thought
  Hoped to abolish God and reign alone.
  There suffering was Nature's daily food
  Alluring to the anguished heArt and flesh,
  And torture was the formula of delight,
  Heaven's face became a mask and snare of Hell.
  There in the heArt of vain phenomenon,
  In an enormous action's writhen core
  When nothing was save Matter without soul
  And a spiritless hollow was the heArt of Time,
  Then Life first touched the insensible Abyss;
  Lifted its ominous head against the stars;
  Overshadowing eArth with its huge body of Doom
  It chilled the heavens with the menace of a face.
  A sovereign ruling falsehood, death and grief,
  It pressed its fierce hegemony on the eArth;
  Disharmonising the original style
  A shadow fell across the simple Ray:
  Obscured was the Truth-light in the cavern heArt
  That burns unwitnessed in the altar crypt
  Yet in her formidable instinctive mind
  She feels the One grow in the heArt of Time
  And sees the Immortal shine through the human mould.
  The mortal perishes to God and Light,
  An Adversary governs heArt and brain,
  A Nature hostile to the Mother Force.
  To Titan and demoniac agencies
  That aggrandise eArth-nature and disframe:
  A cowled fifth-columnist is now thought's guide;
  Aping to the thought the shining Friend and Guide,
  Opposing in the heArt the eternal Will,
  They veil the occult uplifting Harmonist.
  Wherever the Gods act, they intervene.
  A yoke is laid upon the world's dim heArt;
  Masked are its beats from the supernal Bliss,
  Adepts of the illusion and the mask,
  The Artificers of Nature's fall and pain
  Have built their altars of triumphant Night
  All the fierce bale with which the world is racked
  Is mixed in the foaming chalice of man's heArt
  And poured to them like sacramental wine.
  The giant sons of Darkness sit and plan
  The drama of the eArth, their tragic stage.
  All who would raise the fallen world must come
  A questionless mind was ranked as wise content,
  A dull heArt's silent apathy as peace:
  Sleep was not there, torpor was the sole rest,
  This was the law of things none dreamed to change:
  A hard sombre heArt, a harsh unsmiling mind
  Rejected happiness like a cloying sweet;
  Else only fierce sensations gave some zest:
  A fury of jealousy burning the gnawed heArt,
  The sting of murderous spite and hate and lust,
  And sorrow's tragic gaze into the night
  And horror and the hammering heArt of fear
  Were the ingredients in Time's heavy cup
  To worship a black pitiless image of Power
  Kneeling one must cross hard-heArted stony courts,
  A pavement like a floor of evil fate.
  "All who once stayed our will are smitten and dead;
  How great we are, how merciful Art Thou."
  Thus thought they to reach God's impassive throne
  Who held in thrall a miserable world,
  And helpless heArts nailed to unceasing woe
  Adored the feet that trampled them into mire.
  Hate was the black archangel of that realm;
  It glowed, a sombre jewel in the heArt
  Burning the soul with its malignant rays,
  Its ancient privileged right and absolute force:
  In Night he plunged to know her dreadful heArt,
  In Hell he sought the root and cause of Hell.
  He listened to clamours of its crowded pain,
  The heArt-beats of its fatal loneliness.
  Above was a chill deaf eternity.
  And Death's black eagles scream to the precipice,
  And met the hounds of bale who hunt men's heArts
  Baying across the veldts of Destiny,
  Nature expunged her stiff mechanical code
  And the Articles of the bound soul's contract,
  Falsehood gave back to Truth her tortured shape.
  His swift intuitive calligraphy;
  EArth's forms were made his divine documents,
  The wisdom embodied mind could not reveal,
  The diamond script of the Imperishable,
  Inscribed on the dim heArt of fallen things
  A paean-song of the free Infinite
  There poured a wide intimate and blissful Dawn;
  Healed were all things that Time's torn heArt had made
  And sorrow could live no more in Nature's breast:

02.09_-_The_Paradise_of_the_Life-Gods, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  It held in the splendour of its golden laugh
  Regions of the heArt's happiness set free,
  Intoxicated with the wine of God,
  Along the lyric speed of griefless streams
  In fragrance of the uneArthly asphodel.
  A silence of felicity wrapped the heavens,
  A careless radiance smiled upon the heights;
  A murmur of inArticulate ravishment
  Trembled in the winds and touched the enchanted soil;
  A dim and happy music sweetly stole,
  Smitten by unseen hands he heard heArt-close
  The harps' cry of the heavenly minstrels pass,
  And voices of uneArthly melody
  Chanted the glory of eternal love
  A summit and core of all that marvellous world,
  ApArt stood high Elysian nameless hills,
  Burning like sunsets in a trance of eve.
  Her wandering hopes achieved, her aureate combs
  Caught by the honey-eater's dArting tongue,
  Her burning guesses changed to ecstasied truths,
  And liberated her immense desires.
  In that paradise of perfect heArt and sense
  No lower note could break the endless charm
  To music that can immortalise the mind
  And make the heArt wide as infinity
  Listened, and captured the inaudible
  His gates to the world were swept with seas of light.
  His eArth, dowered with celestial competence,
  Harboured a power that needed now no more
  That build the substance of life's deeper soul.
  EArth-nature stood reborn, comrade of heaven.
  A fit companion of the timeless Kings,
  Heard whispers of the Player never seen
  And listened to his voice that steals the heArt
  And draws it to the breast of God's desire,
  He reached the rim of ecstasies unknown;
  A touch supreme surprised his hurrying heArt,
  The clasp was remembered of the Wonderful,

02.10_-_The_Kingdoms_and_Godheads_of_the_Little_Mind, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  It was a tract of dim and shifting rays
  PArting Life's sentient flow from Thought's self-poise.
  A coalition of uncertainties
  A mind that hardly saw and slowly found;
  Its nature to our eArthly nature close
  And kin to our precarious mortal thought
  Was born in that luminous obscurity.
  Advancing tardily from a limping stArt,
  Crutching hypothesis on argument,
  Up from man's bare beginning is our climb;
  Out of eArth's heavy smallness we must break,
  We must search our nature with spiritual fire:
  Assigned a seat on the inconscient stage.
  On eArth by the will of this Arch-Intelligence
  A bodiless energy put on Matter's robe;
  And the impalpable was felt as mass:
  Magic of percept joined with concept's Art
  And lent to each object an interpreting name:
  Idea was disguised in a body's Artistry,
  And by a strange atomic law's mystique
  A specialist of logic's hard machine
  Imposed its rigid Artifice on the soul;
  An aide of the inventor intellect,
  That each might have his ration of thought-food,
  Then new-built Truth's slain body by its Art:
  A robot exact and serviceable and false
  Ethereal thinkings into Matter's world;
  Its gold-horned herds trooped into eArth's cave-heArt.
  Its morning rays illume our twilight's eyes,
  Its young formations move the mind of eArth
  To labour and to dream and new-create,
  To teach the Ignorance is her difficult charge,
  Her thought stArts from an original nescient Void
  And what she teaches she herself must learn
  Her rapid hands must learn a cautious zeal;
  Only a slow advance the eArth can bear.
  Yet was her strength unlike the unseeing eArth's
  Compelled to handle makeshift instruments
  Invented by the life-force and the flesh.
  EArth all perceives through doubtful images,
  All she conceives in hazardous jets of sight,
  External fact it figures as sole truth,
  Wisdom identifies with the eArthward look,
  And things long known and actions always done
  A firm shape of Nature never to be changed,
  PArt of the huge routine of the universe.
  A smile from the Preserver of the Worlds
  Sent down of old this guardian Mind to eArth
  That all might stand in their fixed changeless type
  From the great mystic Flame that rings the worlds
  And with its dire edge eats at being's heArt.
  Thence sprang the burning vision of Desire.
  Yet the haphazard seemed the inevitable,
  Came Reason, the squat godhead Artisan,
  To her narrow house upon a ridge in Time.
  And the body of Space and the fleeing soul of Time,
  And took the eArth and stars into her hands
  To try what she could make of these strange things.
  Unconscious of too close realities,
  Of the unspoken thought, the voiceless heArt,
  She leans to forge her credos and iron codes
  Her segment systems of the Infinite,
  Her theodicies and cosmogonic chArts
  And myths by which she explains the inexplicable.
  The daedal of her patterned arabesques,
  Art of her wisdom, Artifice of her lore.
  This Art, this Artifice are her only stock.
  In her high works of pure intelligence,
  Her old great mythic writings disappear
  And into their place stArt strict ephemeral signs;
  This constant change spells progress to her eyes:
  Balanced she sits on wide and empty air,
  Aloof and pure in her impArtial poise.
  Absolute her judgments seem but none is sure;
  Constructed for her by her instruments.
  A bullock yoked in the cArt of proven fact,
  She drags huge knowledge-bales through Matter's dust
  She digs into Matter's hard concealing soil,
  To uneArth the processes of all things done.
  A loaded huge self-worked machine appears
  Then wonders why all was and whence it came.
  Our thoughts are pArts of the immense machine,
  Our ponderings but a freak of Matter's law,
  A lightning from the undiscovered Truth
  StArtled her eyes with its perplexing glare
  And dug a gulf between the Real and Known
  Creation and destruction waltzed inarmed
  On the bosom of a torn and quaking eArth;
  All reeled into a world of Kali's dance.
  To liberate man from the old inadequate means
  And leave him sovereign of the eArthly scene.
  For Reason then might grasp the original Force
  The grand result of the long ages' toil,
  EArth's evolution crowned, her mission done.
  So might it be if the spirit fell asleep;
  The world's disorder hardening into Law, -
  If Life's dire heArt arose not in revolt,
  If God within could find no greater plan.
  Ascending from the soil where creep our days,
  EArth's consciousness may marry with the Sun,
  Our mortal life ride on the spirit's wings,
  She did the task, obeyed the knowledge given,
  Her deep heArt yearned towards great ideal things
  And from the light looked out to wider light:
  In this small mould of infant mind and sense
  Desire is a child-heArt's cry crying for bliss,
  Our reason only a toys' Artificer,
  A rule-maker in a strange stumbling game.
  She knows she has but found a form, a robe,
  But ever she hopes to see him in her heArt
  And feel the body of his reality.
  Finding her hands too small to hold vast Truth
  She breaks up knowledge into alien pArts
  Or peers through cloud-rack for a vanished sun:
  On lustrous seas from the still rapt Alone
  To illumine the deep heArt of self and things.
  A timeless knowledge it shall bring to Mind,

02.11_-_The_Kingdoms_and_Godheads_of_the_Greater_Mind, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  For Thought transcends the circles of mortal mind,
  It is greater than its eArthly instrument:
  The godhead crammed into mind's narrow space
  A prop of all that human strength enacts,
  Creator of hopes by eArth unrealised,
  It spreads beyond the expanding universe;
  A breath of unattained divinity
  Visits the imperfect eArth on which we toil;
  Across a gleaming ether's golden laugh
  The courage and the strength death cannot touch
  Awake in limbs that are mortal, heArts that fail;
  We move by the rapid impulse of a will
  An errant ray from the immortal Mind
  Accepted the eArth's blindness and became
  Our human thought, servant of Ignorance.
  Recalling still its old lost sovereignty.
  Amidst eArth's mist and fog and mud and stone
  It still remembers its exalted sphere
  This tender of small lamps, this minister serf
  Hired by a mind and body for eArth-use
  Forgets its work mid crude realities;
  There runs in its flow honeying the bosom of Space
  A laughter from the immortal heArt of Bliss,
  And the unfathomed Joy of timelessness,
  Although abrupt for common strengths to tread,
  Its upward slope looks down on our eArth-poise:
  On a slant not too precipitously steep
  They have built in the material front of things
  This wide world-kindergArten of young souls
  Where the infant spirit learns through mind and sense
  To make a world that Mind could grasp and rule.
  On an eArth which looked towards a thousand suns,
  That the created might grow Nature's lord
  They lived in the mind and knew truth from within;
  A sight withdrawn in the concentrated heArt
  Could pierce behind the screen of Time's results
  Lost the alluring marvel of her eyes;
  The surging wave-throbs of her vast sea-heArt
  They bound to a theorem of ordered beats:
  By knowing too much they missed the whole to be known:
  The fathomless heArt of the world was left unguessed
  And the Transcendent kept its secrecy.
  The imperatives of the creator Self
  Obeyed by unknowing eArth, by conscious heaven;
  Their thoughts are pArtners in its vast control.
  A great all-ruling Consciousness is there
  An empress prisoner in her subject's house,
  Adored and pure and still on his heArt's throne,
  His splendid property cherished and apArt
  In the wall of silence of his secret muse,
  Godhead of his life's worship and desire,
  Icon of his heArt's sole idolatry,
  She now is his and must live for him alone:
  And drew to her bosom one glorified mortal head:
  She made eArth her home, for whom heaven was too small.
  In a human breast her occult presence lived;
  In the still mind as in a living glass;
  The timeless Ray descends into our heArts
  And we are rapt into eternity.

02.12_-_The_Heavens_of_the_Ideal, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  A glory of sunrise breaking on the soul,
  In a tremulous rapture of the heArt's insight
  And the spontaneous bliss that beauty gives,
  Unseen, unguessed by the blind suffering world,
  Climbing from Nature's deep surrendered heArt
  It blooms for ever at the feet of God,
  A sudden mystery of secret Grace
  Flowers goldening our eArth of red desire.
  All the high gods who hid their visages
  Ideal love and flawless happiness
  And laughter of the heArt's sweetness and delight
  Freed from the rude and tragic hold of Time,
  Heard are the flutings of the Infinite.
  Here upon eArth are early awakenings,
  Moments that tremble in an air divine,
  Once kindled, never can its flamings cease.
  A fire along the mystic paths of eArth,
  It rises through the mortal's hemisphere,
  Heights of the grandeur of Truth's ageless ray,
  As in a symbol sky they stArt to view
  And call our souls into a vaster air.
  Efforts too lasting for our mortal nerve
  Our heArts cannot cleave to nor our flesh support;
  Only the Eternal's strength in us can dare
  Where Will is one with Truth and Good with Power;
  Impoverished not by eArth-mind's indigence,
  They keep God's natural breath of mightiness,
  And there his sovereign autarchy of bliss
  In which immortal natures have their pArt,
  Heirs and cosharers of divinity.
  Accepted their beauty and their greatness bore,
  PArtook of the glories of their wonder fields,
  But passed nor stayed beneath their splendour's rule.
  All there was an intense but pArtial light.
  In each a seraph-winged high-browed Idea
  Each deemed Truth's intimate fount and summit force,
  The heArt of the meaning of the universe,
  Perfection's key, passport to Paradise.
  Become a single multitudinous whole.
  Above the pArting of the roads of Time,
  Above the Silence and its thousandfold Word,

02.13_-_In_the_Self_of_Mind, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Omnipotent, immobile and aloof,
  In the world which sprang from it, it took no pArt:
  It gave no heed to the paeans of victory,
  It heard the cry of grief and made no sign;
  ImpArtial fell its gaze on evil and good,
  It saw destruction come and did not move.
  One being with it he grew wide, powerful, free.
  ApArt, unbound, he looked on all things done.
  As one who builds his own imagined scenes
  Or the white passion of God-ecstasy
  That laughs in the blaze of the boundless heArt of Love.
  A greater Spirit than the Self of Mind
  High-climbing pathways ceased in the unknown;
  An Artist Sight constructed the Beyond
  In contrary patterns and conflicting hues;
  A pArt-experience fragmented the Whole.
  He looked above, but all was blank and still:

02.14_-_The_World-Soul, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Through many layers of formless voiceless self
  To reach the last profound of the world's heArt,
  And from that heArt there surged a wordless call
  Pleading with some still impenetrable Mind,
  But nameless to the unremembering mind,
  It led to rapture back the truant heArt.
  The immortal cry ravished the captive ear.
  A jingling silver laugh of anklet bells
  Travelled the roads of a solitary heArt;
  Its dance solaced an eternal loneliness:
  A point that was the conscious knot of Space,
  An hour eternal in the heArt of Time.
  The silent Soul of all the world was there:
  Meeting and turning to the best the worst,
  It healed the bitter cruelties of eArth,
  Transforming all experience to delight;
  A fire of passion burned in spirit-depths,
  A constant touch of sweetness linked all heArts,
  The throb of one adoration's single bliss
  And being's look on being with inmost gaze
  And heArt laid bare to heArt without walls of speech
  And the unanimity of seeing minds
  As those who have lived long made one in love
  Need word nor sign for heArt's reply to heArt,
  He met and communed without bar of speech
  Immersed in voiceless internatal trance
  The beings that once wore forms on eArth sat there
  In shining chambers of spiritual sleep.
  Assuming names unknown in unknown climes
  Imprints through Time upon the eArth's worn page
  A growing figure of its secret self,
  The spirit wandering from state to state
  Finds here the silence of its stArting-point
  In the formless force and the still fixity
  He outstretched to her his folded hands of prayer.
  Then in a sovereign answer to his heArt
  A gesture came as of worlds thrown away,
  And from her raiment's lustrous mystery raised
  One arm half-pArted the eternal veil.
  A light appeared still and imperishable.
  And the surrender of his boundless mind
  And the self-giving of his silent heArt.
  He fell down at her feet unconscious, prone.

02.15_-_The_Kingdoms_of_the_Greater_Knowledge, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  And the magic underlying simple shapes.
  On peaks where Silence listens with still heArt
  To the rhythmic metres of the rolling worlds,
  He was a vast that soon became a Sun.
  A great luminous silence whispered to his heArt;
  His knowledge an inview caught unfathomable,
  His brain was wrapped in overwhelming light,
  An all-embracing knowledge seized his heArt:
  Thoughts rose in him no eArthly mind can hold,
  Mights played that never coursed through mortal nerves:
  He linked creation to the Eternal's sphere.
  His finite pArts approached their absolutes,
  His actions framed the movements of the Gods,

03.01_-_The_Evolution_of_Consciousness, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  For if there is a conscious being in the form, that being can hardly be a temporary phenomenon of consciousness; it must be a soul fulfilling itself and this fulfilment can only take place if there is a return of the soul to eArth in many successive lives, in many successive bodies.
  The process of evolution has been the development from and in inconscient Matter of a subconscient and then a conscious
  Life, of conscious mind first in animal life and then fully in conscious and thinking man, the highest present achievement of evolutionary Nature. The achievement of mental being is at present her highest and tends to be regarded as her final work; but it is possible to conceive a still further step of the evolution: Nature may have in view beyond the imperfect mind of man a consciousness that passes out of the mind's ignorance and possesses truth as its inherent right and nature. There is a truth-consciousness as it is called in the Veda, a supermind, as I have termed it, possessing Knowledge, not having to seek after it and constantly miss it. In one of the Upanishads a being of knowledge is stated to be the next step above the mental being; into that the soul has to rise and through it to attain the perfect bliss of spiritual existence. If that could be achieved as the next evolutionary step of Nature here, then she would be fulfilled and we could conceive of the perfection of life even here, its attainment of a full spiritual living even in this body or it may be in a perfected body. We could even speak of a divine life on eArth; our human dream of perfectibility would be accomplished and at the same time the aspiration to a heaven on eArth common to several religions and spiritual seers and thinkers.
  Consciousness is a fundamental thing, it is the fundamental thing in existence - it is the energy, the action, the movement of consciousness that creates the universe and all that is in it
  - not only the macrocosm, but the microcosm is nothing but consciousness arranging itself. For instance when consciousness in its movement, or rather a certain stress of movement, forgets itself in the action it becomes an apparently "unconscious" energy; when it forgets itself in the form it becomes the electron, the atom, the material object. In reality it is still consciousness that works in the energy and determines the form and the evolution of form. When it wants to liberate itself, slowly, evolutionarily, out of matter, but still in the form, it emerges as life, as the animal, as man and it can go on evolving itself still fArther out of its involution and become something more than mere man.

03.01_-_The_Pursuit_of_the_Unknowable, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  A cave of darkness guards the eternal Light.
  A silence settled on his striving heArt;
  Absolved from the voices of the world's desire,
  Its presence made the smallest seem divine.
  When it was there, the heArt's abyss was filled;
  But when the uplifting Deity withdrew,
  There was no mind there with its need to know,
  There was no heArt there with its need to love.
  All person perished in its namelessness.
  There was no second, it had no pArtner or peer;
  Only itself was real to itself.

03.02_-_The_Adoration_of_the_Divine_Mother, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Only the everlasting No has neared
  And stared into thy eyes and killed thy heArt:
  But where is the Lover's everlasting Yes,
  And immortality in the secret heArt,
  The voice that chants to the creator Fire,
  Imaged itself in a surprising beam
  And built a golden passage to his heArt
  Touching through him all longing sentient things.
  Cancelled the vanity of the cosmic whirl.
  A Nature throbbing with a HeArt divine
  Was felt in the unconscious universe;
  The Mother of all godheads and all strengths
  Who, mediatrix, binds eArth to the Supreme.
  The Enigma ceased that rules our nature's night,
  No longer could the titan Opposites,
  Antagonist poles of the world's Artifice,
  Impose the illusion of their twofold screen
  And the indignity of mortal life.
  A HeArt was felt in the spaces wide and bare,
  She is the golden bridge, the wonderful fire.
  The luminous heArt of the Unknown is she,
  A power of silence in the depths of God;
  And break the seals on the dim soul of man
  And kindle her fire in the closed heArt of things.
  All here shall be one day her sweetness' home,
  His spirit was caught in her intolerant flame.
  Once seen, his heArt acknowledged only her.
  Only a hunger of infinite bliss was left.
  But now his being was too wide for self;
  His heArt's demand had grown immeasurable:
  His single freedom could not satisfy,
  Her light, her bliss he asked for eArth and men.
  But vain are human power and human love
  To break eArth's seal of ignorance and death;
  His nature's might seemed now an infant's grasp;
  In the mind's silence the Transcendent acts
  And the hushed heArt hears the unuttered Word.
  A vast surrender was his only strength.
  Only he longed to draw her presence and power
  Into his heArt and mind and breathing frame;
  Only he yearned to call for ever down

03.02_-_The_Gradations_of_Consciousness_The_Gradation_of_Planes, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  If we regard the gradation of worlds or planes as a whole, we see them as a great connected complex movement; the higher precipitate their influences on the lower, the lower react to the higher and develop or manifest in themselves within their own formula something that corresponds to the superior power and its action. The material world has evolved life in obedience to a pressure from the vital plane, mind in obedience to a pressure from the mental plane. It is now trying to evolve supermind in obedience to a pressure from the supramental plane. In more detail, pArticular forces, movements, powers, beings of a higher world can throw themselves on the lower to establish appropriate and corresponding forms which will connect them with the material domain and, as it were, reproduce or project their action here. And each thing created here has, supporting it, subtler envelopes or forms of itself which make it subsist and connect it with forces acting from above. Man, for instance, has, besides his gross physical body, subtler sheaths or bodies by which he lives behind the veil in direct connection with supraphysical planes of consciousness and can be influenced by their powers, movements and beings. What takes place in life has always behind it preexistent movements and forms in the occult vital planes; what takes place in mind presupposes preexistent movements and forms in the occult mental planes. That is an aspect of things which becomes more and more evident, insistent and important, the more we progress in a dynamic Yoga.

03.03_-_The_House_of_the_Spirit_and_the_New_Creation, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Motionless on a pedestal of prayer.
  A strength he sought that was not yet on eArth,
  Help from a Power too great for mortal will,
  Even in himself survived and hid from his view:
  Still something in his eArthly being kept
  Its kinship with the Inconscient whence it came.
  And pleaded for a heavenly leniency
  To the gracious imperfections of our eArth
  And the sweet weaknesses of our mortal state.
  Immense like ocean, the creation's load
  As eArth upbears all beings' sacrifice,
  Thrilled with the hidden Transcendent's joy and peace.
  Overpowered were form and memory's limiting line;
  The covering mind was seized and torn apArt;
  It was dissolved and now no more could be,
  Transcended was the human formula;
  Man's heArt that had obscured the Inviolable
  Assumed the mighty beating of a god's;
  Awaiting the descent the world to save.
  A Splendour and a Symbol wrapped the eArth,
  Serene epiphanies looked and hallowed vasts
  Passing from chance to unexpected chance,
  No suffering of heArts compelled to beat
  In bodies of the inert Inconscient's make.
  An Eye immense regarding all things done.
  ApArt, at peace above creation's stir,
  Immersed in the eternal altitudes,
  And each became the self and space of all.
  The great world-rhythms were heArt-beats of one Soul,
  To feel was a flame-discovery of God,
  Then from the trance of that tremendous clasp
  And from the throbbings of that single HeArt
  And from the naked Spirit's victory
  White vasts were seen where all is wrapped in all.
  There were no contraries, no sundered pArts,
  All by spiritual links were joined to all
  The recurring decimals of eternity.
  None was apArt, none lived for himself alone,
  Each lived for God in him and God in all,
  A rhythm of Beauty in the calm of Space,
  A knowledge in the fathomless heArt of Time.
  All turned to all without reserve's recoil:
  Love was a close and thrilled identity
  In the throbbing heArt of all that luminous life.
  A universal vision that unites,
  Hearing that listens to thought's inner sound
  And follows the rhythmic meanings of the heArt,
  A touch that needs not hands to feel, to clasp,
  Married to all in happy difference.
  Each gave its powers to help its neighbours' pArts,
  But suffered no diminution by the gift;
  One in the might and joy of multitude.
  Even in the poise where Oneness draws apArt
  To feel the rapture of its separate selves,
  A vast Truth-Consciousness took up these signs
  To pass them on to some divine child HeArt
  That looked on them with laughter and delight
  All here self-lost had there its divine place.
  The Powers that here betray our heArts and err,
  Were there sovereign in truth, perfect in joy,
  Truth's iris-coloured wings of fantasy,
  Or sang to the intuitive heArt of joy
  Wonder's dream-notes that bring the Real close.
  There Life pursued, unwearied of her sport,
  Joy in her heArt and laughter on her lips,
  Brought new creations for the thought's surprise
  And passionate ventures for the heArt to dare,
  Where Truth recurred with an unexpected face
  At hide-and-seek on a Mother Wisdom's breast,
  An Artist teeming with her world-idea,
  She never could exhaust its numberless thoughts
  There Matter is the Spirit's firm density,
  An Artistry of glad outwardness of self,
  A treasure-house of lasting images
  Its warm play of external sight and touch
  Reflected the glow and thrill of the heArt's joy,
  Mind's climbing brilliant thoughts, the spirit's bliss;
  Unrolls its dubious truth to a questioning Mind
  Compelled by the ignorant Power to play its pArt
  And to record her inconclusive tale,
  A new creation from the old shall rise,
  A Knowledge inArticulate find speech,
  Beauty suppressed burst into paradise bloom,
  A tongueless oracle shall speak at last,
  The Superconscient conscious grow on eArth,
  The Eternal's wonders join the dance of Time.
  Himself he knew and why his soul had gone
  Into eArth's passionate obscurity
  To share the labour of an errant Power
  All had not ceased in the unbounded hush.
  His heArt lay somewhere conscious and alone
  Far down below him like a lamp in night;
  Immobile with excess of passionate will,
  His living, sacrificed and offered heArt
  Absorbed in adoration mystical,
  This only knew there was a truth beyond.
  All other pArts were dumb in centred sleep
  Consenting to the slow deliberate Power
  Timelessly waiting through the patient years
  Her coming they had asked for eArth and men;
  This was the fiery point that called her now.

03.03_-_The_Inner_Being_and_the_Outer_Being, #The Integral Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Men do not know themselves and have not learned to distinguish the different pArts of their being; for these are usually lumped together by them as mind, because it is through a mentalised perception and understanding that they know or feel them; therefore they do not understand their own states and actions, or, if at all, then only on the surface. It is pArt of the foundation of
  Yoga to become conscious of the great complexity of our nature, see the different forces that move it and get over it a control of directing knowledge. We are composed of many pArts each of which contributes something to the total movement of our consciousness, our thought, will, sensation, feeling, action, but we do not see the origination or the course of these impulsions; we are aware only of their confused pell-mell results on the surface upon which we can at best impose nothing better than a precarious shifting order.
  There are always two different consciousnesses in the human being, one outward in which he ordinarily lives, the other inward and concealed of which he knows nothing. When one does sadhana, the inner consciousness begins to open and one is able to go inside and have all kinds of experiences there. As the sadhana progresses, one begins to live more and more in this inner being and the outer becomes more and more superficial. At first the inner consciousness seems to be the dream and the outer the waking reality. Afterwards the inner consciousness becomes the reality and the outer is felt by many as a dream or delusion, or else as something superficial and external. The inner consciousness begins to be a place of deep peace, light, happiness, love, closeness to the Divine or the presence of the Divine, the
  Mother. One is then aware of two consciousnesses, this inner one and the outer which has to be changed into its counterpArt and instrument - that also must become full of peace, light, union with the Divine.
  The individual is not limited to the physical body - it is only the external consciousness which feels like that. As soon as one gets over this feeling of limitation, one can feel first the inner consciousness which is connected with the body but does not belong to it, afterwards the planes of consciousness above the body - also a consciousness surrounding the body, but pArt of oneself, pArt of the individual being, through which one is in contact with the cosmic forces and with other beings. This last is what I have called the environmental consciousness.
  They [the environmental consciousness and the subconscient] are two quite different things. What is stored in the subconscient
  - impressions, memories, rise up from there into the conscious pArts. In the environmental things are not stored up and fixed, although they move about there. It is full of mobility, a field of vibration or passage of forces.

03.04_-_The_Vision_and_the_Boon, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  An Influence had approached the mortal range,
  A boundless HeArt was near his longing heArt,
  A mystic Form enveloped his eArthly shape.
  All at her contact broke from silence' seal;
  Each nerve became a burning thread of joy:
  Tissue and flesh pArtook beatitude.
  Alight, the dun unplumbed subconscient caves
  A Shape was seen on threshold Mind, a Voice
  Absolute and wise in the heArt's chambers spoke:
  "O Son of Strength who climbst creation's peaks,
  O Voice arisen from the Inconscient's world,
  How shalt thou speak for men whose heArts are dumb,
  Make purblind eArth the soul's seer-vision's home
  Or lighten the burden of the senseless globe?
  Man is too weak to bear the Infinite's weight.
  Truth born too soon might break the imperfect eArth.
  Leave the all-seeing Power to hew its way:
  In thy single vast achievement reign apArt
  Helping the world with thy great lonely days.
  I ask thee not to merge thy heArt of flame
  In the Immobile's wide uncaring bliss,
  How shall thy mighty spirit brook repose
  While Death is still unconquered on the eArth
  And Time a field of suffering and pain?
  He is the prey of the minutes and the hours.
  Assailed on eArth and unassured of heaven,
  Descended here unhappy and sublime,
  Awakened from her lower driven forms
  The EArth-Mother gave her forces to his hands
  And painfully he guards the heavy trust;
  And love to rule a realm of strife and hate.
  A mind impotent to reconcile heaven and eArth
  And tied to Matter with a thousand bonds,
  A spirit left sterile of its occult power
  By an unbelieving brain and credulous heArt,
  He leaves the world to end where it began:
  An Influx presses from the closed Beyond
  Forbidding to him rest and eArthly ease,
  Till he has found himself he cannot pause.
  A splendour sullied by the mortal air,
  Love passes through his heArt, a wandering guest.
  Beauty surrounds him for a magic hour,
  Are this afflicted creature's mighty fate.
  In him the EArth-Mother sees draw near the change
  Foreshadowed in her dumb and fiery depths,
  Cease not from knowledge, let thy toil be vast.
  No more can eArthly limits pen thy force;
  Equal thy work with long unending Time's.
  My light shall be in thee, my strength thy force.
  Let not the impatient Titan drive thy heArt,
  Ask not the imperfect fruit, the pArtial prize.
  Only one boon, to greaten thy spirit, demand;
  A mute immensity of the Eternal's peace.
  But Aswapati's heArt replied to her,
  A cry amid the silence of the Vasts:
  The instruments of an impulse not our own
  Moved to achieve with our heArt's blood for price
  Half-knowledge, half-creations that soon tire.
  In anguish we labour that from us may rise
  A larger-seeing man with nobler heArt,
  A golden vessel of the incarnate Truth,
  The executor of the divine attempt
  Equipped to wear the eArthly body of God,
  Communicant and prophet and lover and king.
  And intolerant flames the lone all-witnessing Eye
  Hearing the word of Fate from Silence' heArt
  In the endless moment of Eternity,
  There was a thunder as of worlds that fall;
  EArth was o'errun with fire and the roar of Death
  Clamouring to slay a world his hunger had made;
  And dancers within rapture's golden doors,
  Their tread one day shall change the suffering eArth
  And justify the light on Nature's face.
  Although Fate lingers in the high Beyond
  And the work seems vain on which our heArt's force was spent,
  All shall be done for which our pain was borne.
  He shall know what mortal mind barely durst think,
  He shall do what the heArt of the mortal could not dare.
  Inheritor of the toil of human time,
  He shall take on him the burden of the gods;
  All heavenly light shall visit the eArth's thoughts,
  The might of heaven shall fortify eArthly heArts;
  EArth's deeds shall touch the superhuman's height,
  EArth's seeing widen into the infinite.
  Heavy unchanged weighs still the imperfect world;
  And still the seals are firm upon man's soul
  And weary is the ancient Mother s heArt.
  O Truth defended in thy secret sun,
  O Wisdom-Splendour, Mother of the universe,
  Creatrix, the Eternal's Artist Bride,
  Linger not long with thy transmuting hand
  Pressed vainly on one golden bar of Time,
  As if Time dare not open its heArt to God.
  O radiant fountain of the world's delight
  Incarnate the white passion of thy force,
  Mission to eArth some living form of thee.
  One moment fill with thy eternity,
  All-Knowledge wrap one mind in seas of light,
  All-Love throb single in one human heArt.
  Immortal, treading the eArth with mortal feet
  All heaven's beauty crowd in eArthly limbs!
  Omnipotence, girdle with the power of God
  A limitless Mind that can contain the world,
  A sweet and violent heArt of ardent calms
  Moved by the passions of the gods shall come.
  All mights and greatnesses shall join in her;
  Beauty shall walk celestial on the eArth,
  Delight shall sleep in the cloud-net of her hair,
  Her form retreated from the longing eArth
  Forsaking nearness to the abandoned sense,
  Came gliding in upon white feet of sound.
  Unlocked was the deep glory of Silence' heArt;
  The absolute unmoving stillnesses

04.01_-_The_Birth_and_Childhood_of_the_Flame, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Hastening towards a far-off unknown goal
  EArth followed the endless journey of the Sun.
  A mind but half-awake in the swing of the void
  Prisoner of speed upon a jewelled wheel,
  She communed with the mystic heArt in Space.
  Amid the ambiguous stillness of the stars
  Rain-tide burst in upon torn wings of heat,
  StArtled with lightnings air's unquiet drowse,
  Lashed with life-giving streams the torpid soil,
  Or from the gold eye of her paramour
  Covered with packed cloud-veils the eArth's brown face.
  A traveller from unquiet neighbouring seas,
  The dense-maned monsoon rode neighing through eArth's hours:
  Thick now the emissary javelins:
  Enormous lightnings split the horizon's rim
  And, hurled from the quArters as from contending camps,
  Married heaven's edges steep and bare and blind:
  And turned dry soil to bog and reeking mud:
  EArth was a quagmire, heaven a dismal block.
  None saw through dank drenched weeks the dungeon sun.
  EArth's mood now changed; she lay in lulled repose,
  The hours went by with slow contented tread:
  A wide and tranquil air remembered peace,
  EArth was the comrade of a happy sun.
  A calmness neared as of the approach of God,
  And an identity and ecstasy
  Filled meditation's solitary heArt.
  A dream loitered in the dumb mind of Space,
  Then Spring, an ardent lover, leaped through leaves
  And caught the eArth-bride in his eager clasp;
  His advent was a fire of irised hues,
  And guards intact unchanged by death and Time
  The answer of our heArts to Nature's charm
  And keeps for ever new, yet still the same,
  His coming brought the magic and the spell;
  At his touch life's tired heArt grew glad and young;
  He made joy a willing prisoner in her breast.
  His grasp was a young god's upon eArth's limbs:
  Changed by the passion of his divine outbreak
     In this high signal moment of the gods
  Answering eArth's yearning and her cry for bliss,
  A greatness from our other countries came.
  A silence in the noise of eArthly things
  Immutably revealed the secret Word,
  A lamp was lit, a sacred image made.
  A mediating ray had touched the eArth
  Bridging the gulf between man's mind and God's;
  Translating heaven into a human shape
  Descended into eArth's imperfect mould
  And wept not fallen to mortality,
  Survivor of death and the aeonic years,
  Once more with her fathomless heArt she fronted Time.
  Again there was renewed, again revealed
  The ancient closeness by eArth-vision veiled,
  The secret contact broken off in Time,
  A consanguinity of eArth and heaven,
  Between the human portion toiling here
  For since upon this blind and whirling globe
  EArth-plasm first quivered with the illumining mind
  And life invaded the material sheath
  A Mother wisdom works in Nature's breast
  To pour delight on the heArt of toil and want
  On a half-animate and crumbling mould,
  Plants heaven's delight in the heArt's passionate mire,
  Pours godhead's seekings into a bare beast frame,
  Hides immortality in a mask of death.
  Once more that Will put on an eArthly shape.
  A Mind empowered from Truth's immutable seat
  Outlined by the pressure of this new descent
  A lovelier body formed than eArth had known.
  As yet a prophecy only and a hint,
  Involved and drowned in Matter's giant trance,
  An infant heArt of the deep-caved world-plan
  In cradle of divine inconscience rocked
  Even in her childish movements could be felt
  The nearness of a light still kept from eArth,
  Feelings that only eternity could share,
  Or flies above divine unreachable tops.
  Harmoniously she impressed the eArth with heaven.
  Aligned to a swift rhythm of sheer delight
  And singing to themselves her days went by;
  Each minute was a throb of beauty's heArt;
  The hours were tuned to a sweet-toned content
  This at a heavenlier height was shown in her.
  Even when she bent to meet eArth's intimacies
  Her spirit kept the stature of the gods;
  And flooded her brain with heavenly brilliances
  That woke a wider sight than eArth could know.
  Outlined in the sincerity of that ray
  Inviolate, guarding Truth's diamond throne.
  A nectarous haloed moon her passionate heArt
  Loved all and spoke no word and made no sign,

04.02_-_The_Growth_of_the_Flame, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  As if this magnet drew their powers unseen.
  EArth's brooding wisdom spoke to her still breast;
  Mounting from mind's last peaks to mate with gods,
  Making eArth's brilliant thoughts a springing-board
  To dive into the cosmic vastnesses,
  A shoreless sweep was lent to the mortal's acts,
  And Art and beauty sprang from the human depths;
  Nature and soul vied in nobility.
  Aspiring to the Immortals' unseen world.
  Leaving eArth's safety daring wings of Mind
  Bore her above the trodden fields of thought
  Aware of the marvel of created things
  She laid the secrecies of her heArt's deep muse
  Upon the altar of the Wonderful;
  Or it helped to beat out new expressive forms
  Of that which labours in the heArt of life,
  Some immemorial Soul in men and things,
  To rend the veil of the last mysteries.
  Intense philosophies pointed eArth to heaven
  Or on foundations broad as cosmic Space
  Upraised the eArth-mind to superhuman heights.
  Overpassing lines that please the outward eyes
  Music brought down celestial yearnings, song
  Held the merged heArt absorbed in rapturous depths,
  Linking the human with the cosmic cry;
  And metres surging with the ocean's voice
  Translated by grandeurs locked in Nature's heArt
  But thrown now into a crowded glory of speech
  Not yet the vast direct immediate touch,
  Nor yet the Art and wisdom of the Gods.
  A boundless knowledge greater than man's thought,
  A happiness too high for heArt and sense
  Locked in the world and yearning for release
  Her might to possess and her vast power to love:
  EArth made a stepping-stone to conquer heaven,
  The soul saw beyond heaven's limiting boundaries,
  Aware of the universal Self in all
  She turned to living heArts and human forms,
  Her soul's reflections, complements, counterpArts,
  The close outlying portions of her being
  Their nature weary grew of things too great.
  For even the close pArtners of her thoughts
  Who could have walked the nearest to her ray,
  She walked in their front towards a greater light,
  Their leader and queen over their heArts and souls,
  One close to their bosoms, yet divine and far.
  Or longing with their self of life and flesh
  They clung to her for heArt's nourishment and support:
  The rest they could not see in visible light;
  Vaguely they bore her inner mightiness.
  Or bound by the senses and the longing heArt,
  Adoring with a turbid human love,
  Adore a love whose rapture invades their breasts;
  To a divine ardour quickening the heArt-beats,
  A law they follow greatening heArt and life.
  Opened to the breath is a new diviner air,
  He sees high steps climbing to Self and Light.
  Her divine pArts the soul's allegiance called:
  It saw, it felt, it knew the deity.
  Her will was puissant on their nature's acts,
  Her heArt's inexhaustible sweetness lured their heArts,
  A being they loved whose bounds exceeded theirs;
  Put on an aspect of divinity
  To exalt them to a pitch beyond their eArth's.
  They felt a larger future meet their walk;
  Impatient subjects, their tied longing heArts
  Hugging the bonds close of which they most complained,
  Hastened to engross her sweetness meant for all.
  As eArth claims light for its lone separate need
  Demanding her for their sole jealous clasp,
  Angrily enamoured of her sweet passionate ray
  The weakness of their eArth could hardly bear,
  They longed but cried out at the touch desired
  Unable to mount to levels too sublime,
  They yearned to draw her down to their own eArth.
  Or forced to centre round her their passionate lives,
  They hoped to bind to their heArt's human needs
  Her glory and grace that had enslaved their souls.
     But mid this world, these heArts that answered her call,
  None could stand up her equal and her mate.
  These comrade selves to raise to her own wide breadths
  Her heArt desired and fill with her own power
  And dived in the shallow wave-depths of their lives
  And met and shared their heArt-beats of grief and joy
  And bent to heal their sorrow and their pride,
  And held as the great Mother holds her own,
  Only her eArthly surface bore their charge
  And mixed its fire with their mortality:
  A nearness she could feel serenely one;
  The Force in her drew eArth's subhuman broods;
  And to her spirit's large and free delight
  Of animal and bird and flower and tree.
  They answered to her with the simple heArt.
  In man a dim disturbing somewhat lives;
  Among the many who came drawn to her
  Nowhere she found her pArtner of high tasks,
  The comrade of her soul, her other self
  Too great was her demand, too pure her force.
  Thus lighting eArth around her like a sun,
  Yet in her inmost sky an orb aloof,
  A distance severed her from those most close.
  Puissant, apArt her soul as the gods live.
     As yet unlinked with the broad human scene,
  In a small circle of young eager heArts,
  Her being's early school and closed domain,
  Apprentice in the business of eArth-life,
  She schooled her heavenly strain to bear its touch,
  As blooms a flower in an unvisited place.
  EArth nursed, unconscious still, the inhabiting flame,
  Yet something deeply stirred and dimly knew;
  A growing sense of something new and rare
  And beautiful stole across the heArt of Time.
  Then a faint whisper of her touched the soil,
  A glory unapproachably divine.
  No equal heArt came close to join her heArt,
  No transient eArthly love assailed her calm,
  No hero passion had the strength to seize;
  And drew back from a touch beyond its kind
  The eArth-nature bound in sense-life's narrow make.
  The heArts of men are amorous of clay-kin
  And bear not spirits lone and high who bring
  Her mind sat high pouring its golden beams,
  Her heArt was a crowded temple of delight.
  A single lamp lit in perfection's house,
  Midst those encircling lives her spirit dwelt,
  ApArt in herself until her hour of fate.

04.03_-_The_Call_to_the_Quest, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Across the deep urgency of present cares,
  EArth's wordless hymn to the Ineffable
  Arose from the silent heArt of the cosmic Void;
  He heard the voice repressed of unborn Powers
  Again the mighty yearning raised its flame
  That asks a perfect life on eArth for men
  And prays for certainty in the uncertain mind
  And shadowless bliss for suffering human heArts
  And Truth embodied in an ignorant world
  And left its stamp on the recording cells.
  "O Force-compelled, Fate-driven eArth-born race,
  O petty adventurers in an infinite world
  A greater destiny waits you in your front:
  This transient eArthly being if he wills
  Can fit his acts to a transcendent scheme.
  Can fill those orbs with an immortal's sight.
  Yet shall the godhead grow within your heArts,
  You shall awake into the spirit's air
  And feel the breaking walls of mortal mind
  And hear the message which left life's heArt dumb
  And look through Nature with sun-gazing lids
  And blow your conch-shells at the Eternal's gate.
  Authors of eArth's high change, to you it is given
  To cross the dangerous spaces of the soul
  And make of life the million-bodied One.
  The eArth you tread is a border screened from heaven;
  The life you lead conceals the light you are.
  The nympholepts of the ecstasy and the blaze.
  An epic of hope and failure breaks eArth's heArt;
  Her force and will exceed her form and fate.
  And, suffering, looks for greatness in her sons.
  But dim in human heArts the ascending fire,
  The invisible Grandeur sits unworshipped there;
  The strong climb hardly to a low-peaked height,
  The heArts that yearn are given one hour to love.
  His tale half told, falters the secret Bard;
  A bright moved torch of incense and of flame
  That from the sky-roofed temple-soil of eArth
  A pilgrim hand lifts in an invisible shrine.
  This intimation of the world's delight,
  This wonder of the divine Artist's make
  Carved like a nectar-cup for thirsty gods,
  Were seas of love and thought that held the world;
  Marvelling at life and eArth they saw truths far.
  They seemed to carry the rhythmic sob of bliss
  Of eArth's mute adoration towards heaven
  Released in beauty's cry of living form
  Annulled were the transient values of the mind,
  The body's sense renounced its eArthly look;
  Immortal met immortal in their gaze.
  One shall discover and greaten with it his life
  To whom thou loosenest thy heArt's jewelled strings.
  O rubies of silence, lips from which there stole
  And limbs like fine-linked poems made of gold
  Stanzaed to glimmering curves by Artist gods,
  DepArt where love and destiny call your charm.
  Venture through the deep world to find thy mate.
  For somewhere on the longing breast of eArth,
  Thy unknown lover waits for thee the unknown.
  This word was seed of all the thing to be:
  A hand from some Greatness opened her heArt's locked doors
  And showed the work for which her strength was born.
  She turned to vastnesses not yet her own;
  Allured her heArt throbbed to unknown sweetnesses;
  The secrets of an unseen world were close.

04.04_-_The_Quest, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Peopled her mind and kept her body's gaze.
  But as she moved across the changing eArth
  A deeper consciousness welled up in her:
  And she met nameless comrades loved by her once.
  All was a pArt of old forgotten selves:
  Vaguely or with a flash of sudden hints
  And we live in a present born from an unknown past,
  They seem but pArts of a mechanic Force
  To a mechanic mind tied by eArth's laws;
  Yet are they instruments of a Will supreme,
  Driven from within she followed her long road,
  Mute in the luminous cavern of her heArt,
  Like a bright cloud through the resplendent day.
  Her carven chariot with its fretted wheels
  Threaded through clamorous mArts and sentinel towers
  Past figured gates and high dream-sculptured fronts
  Not yet perturbed by human joys and fears.
  Here was the childhood of primaeval eArth,
  Here timeless musings large and glad and still,
  That gathers in the silence behind life,
  And the low sweet inArticulate voice of eArth
  In the great passion of her sun-kissed trance
  August, exulting in her Maker's eye,
  She felt her nearness to him in eArth's breast,
  Conversed still with a Light behind the veil,
  All time-made difference they overcame;
  The world was fibred with their own heArt-strings;
  Close drawn to the heArt that beats in every breast,
  They reached the one self in all through boundless love.
  The seers attuned to the universal Will,
  Content in Him who smiles behind eArth's forms,
  Abode ungrieved by the insistent days.
  Large like a continent of warm sunshine
  In wide equality's impArtial joy,
  These sages breathed for God's delight in things.
  Or opened the gates of freedom to a few.
  ImpArting to our struggling world the Light
  They breathed like spirits from Time's dull yoke released,
  Using a natural mastery like the sun's:
  Their speech, their silence was a help to eArth.
  A magic happiness flowed from their touch;
  The love that flows from the one Mother s breast
  Healed with their heArts the hard and wounded world.
  Others escaped from the confines of thought
  A mind remembering ancient silences,
  Where to the heArt great bygone voices called
  And the large liberty of brooding seers
  And unaware of his own infinity.
  The eArth multiplied to her a changing brow
  And called her with a far and nameless voice.
  And now his burning breath assailed the soil.
  The tiger heats prowled through the fainting eArth;
  All was licked up as by a lolling tongue.

05.01_-_The_Destined_Meeting-Place, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  There expectation beat wide sudden wings
  As if a soul had looked out from eArth's face,
  And all that was in her felt a coming change
  The armoured leaders of an iron line;
  EArth prostrate lay beneath their feet of stone.
  EArth couched alone with her great lover Heaven,
  Uncovered to her consort's azure eye.
  Magician of her rapt felicities,
  Blithe, sensuous-heArted, careless and divine,
  Life ran or hid in her delightful rooms;
  Man the deep-browed Artificer had not come
  To lay his hand on happy inconscient things,
  Here in this solitude far from the world
  Her pArt she began in the world's joy and strife.

05.02_-_Satyavan, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  EArth in this beautiful refuge free from cares
  Murmured to the soul a song of strength and peace.
  Here first she met on the uncertain eArth
  The one for whom her heArt had come so far.
  At first her glance that took life's million shapes
  ImpArtially to people its treasure-house
  Along with sky and flower and hill and star,
  It saw this image of veiled deity,
  This thinking master creature of the eArth,
  This last result of the beauty of the stars,
  But only saw like fair and common forms
  The Artist spirit needs not for its work
  And puts aside in memory's shadowy rooms.
  Her mind at first dwelt in ideal dreams,
  Those intimate transmuters of eArth's signs
  That make known things a hint of unseen spheres,
  And saw in him the genius of the spot,
  A symbol figure standing mid eArth's scenes,
  A king of life outlined in delicate air.
  Yet this was but a moment's reverie;
  For suddenly her heArt looked out at him,
  The passionate seeing used thought cannot match,
  Then trembling with the mystic shock her heArt
  Moved in her breast and cried out like a bird
  Hid in its breast the key of all his aims,
  A spell to bring the Immortal's bliss on eArth,
  To mate with heaven's truth our mortal thought,
  To lift eArth-heArts nearer the Eternal's sun.
  His passion surged a wave from fathomless deeps;
  It leaped to eArth from far forgotten heights,
  But kept its nature of infinity.
  Our knowings; we are greater than our thoughts,
  And sometimes eArth unveils that vision here.
  The child-god is at play, he seeks himself
  In many heArts and minds and living forms:
  He lingers for a sign that he can know
  To guide him mid the throng of Nature's hints,
  Reads heavenly truths into eArth's semblances,
  Desires the image for the godhead's sake,
  Through vision looks at the invisible,
  In eArth's alphabet finds a godlike sense;
  But the mind only thinks, "Behold the one
  Behold the sudden sovereign of my days."
  HeArt feels for heArt, limb cries for answering limb;
  All strives to enforce the unity all is.
  The mist was torn that lay between two lives;
  Her heArt unveiled and his to find her turned;
  Attracted as in heaven star by star,

05.03_-_Satyavan_and_Savitri, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Yet in the heArt their secret conscious selves
  At once aware grew of each other warned
  Behind the screen of the external sense
  And strives to find the heArt-disclosing word,
  The passionate speech revealing the soul's need,
  But the mind's ignorance veils the inner sight,
  Only a little breaks through our eArth-made bounds,
  So now they met in that momentous hour,
  "O thou who com'st to me out of Time's silences,
  Yet thy voice has wakened my heArt to an unknown bliss,
  Immortal or mortal only in thy frame,
  For more than eArth speaks to me from thy soul
  And more than eArth surrounds me in thy gaze,
  How Art thou named among the sons of men?
  Whence hast thou dawned filling my spirit's days,
  O sunlight moulded like a golden maid?
  I know that mighty gods are friends of eArth.
  EArth could not hide from me the powers she veils:
  Even though moving mid an eArthly scene
  And the common surfaces of terrestrial things,
  So now my mind could dream and my heArt fear
  That from some wonder-couch beyond our air
  That mortal sweetness smiles between thy lids
  And thy heArt can beat beneath a human gaze
  And thy aureate bosom quiver with a look
  And its tumult answer to an eArth-born voice.
  EArth's ease of simple things can satisfy,
  If thy glance can dwell content on eArthly soil,
  And this celestial summary of delight,
  Oppressing with its grace our terrain, while
  The frail sweet passing taste of eArthly food
  Delays thee and the torrent's leaping wine,
  Bare, simple is the sylvan hermit-life;
  Yet is it clad with the jewelry of eArth.
  Musing she answered, "I am Savitri,
  Princess of Madra. Who Art thou? What name
  Musical on eArth expresses thee to men?
  What trunk of kings watered by fortunate streams
  Far from the deeds thy glorious youth demands,
  Haunt of the anchorites and eArth's wilder broods,
  Where only with thy witness self thou roamst
  Than men can build upon dull Matter's soil;
  I met the frankness of the primal eArth,
  I enjoyed the intimacy of infant God.
  The moonbeams' silver ecstasy at night
  Kissed my dim lids to sleep. EArth's morns were mine;
  Lured by faint murmurings with the green-robed hours
  I wandered lost in woods, prone to the voice
  Of winds and waters, pArtner of the sun's joy,
  A listener to the universal speech:
  Godlike our birthright, luxuried our life
  Whose close belongings are the eArth and skies.
  An early prescience in my mind approached
  The great dumb animal consciousness of eArth
  Now grown so close to me who have left old pomps
  As if to a deeper country of the soul
  Transposing the vivid imagery of eArth,
  Through an inner seeing and sense a wakening came.
  "Speak more to me, speak more, O Satyavan,
  Speak of thyself and all thou Art within;
  I would know thee as if we had ever lived
  Speak till a light shall come into my heArt
  And my moved mortal mind shall understand
  It knows that thou Art he my spirit has sought
  Amidst eArth's thronging visages and forms
  Across the golden spaces of my life."
  Answered her questioning and let stream to her
  His heArt in many-coloured waves of speech:
  "O golden princess, perfect Savitri,
  For now I know that all I lived and was
  Moved towards this moment of my heArt's rebirth;
  I look back on the meaning of myself,
  A soul made ready on eArth's soil for thee.
  A Greatness working towards a hidden end,
  And vaguely through the forms of eArth there looked
  Something that life is not and yet must be.
  I strove to find its hints through Beauty and Art,
  But Form cannot unveil the indwelling Power;
  Only it throws its symbols at our heArts.
  A foam-leap travelling from the waves of bliss
  Has changed my heArt and changed the eArth around:
  All with thy coming fills. Air, soil and stream
  Descend, O happiness, with thy moon-gold feet
  Enrich eArth's floors upon whose sleep we lie.
  One with the breath of things eternal live,
  Thy heArt-beats near to mine, till there shall leap
  "O Satyavan, I have heard thee and I know;
  I know that thou and only thou Art he."
  Then down she came from her high carven car
  Scattered a memory of wandering beams
  And lightly pressed the unspoken desire of eArth
  Cherished in her too brief passing by the soil.
  And made her body the room of his delight,
  Her beating heArt a remembrancer of bliss.
  As a starry heaven encircles happy eArth,
  He shut her into himself in a circle of bliss
  Each now was a pArt of the other's unity,
  The world was but their twin self-finding's scene
  While by the ministry of an auspice-hour
  HeArt-bound before the sun, their marriage fire,
  The wedding of the eternal Lord and Spouse
  Took place again on eArth in human forms:
  In a new act of the drama of the world
  She saw a clustering line of hermit-roofs
  And looked now first on her heArt's future home,
  The thatch that covered the life of Satyavan.
  Her happy voice cried out to Satyavan:
  "My heArt will stay here on this forest verge
  Less bright than the splendour of her thoughts and dreams
  She sped swift-reined, swift-heArted but still saw
  In still lucidities of sight's inner world
  This now remained with her, her heArt's constant scene.

06.01_-_The_Word_of_Fate, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Attracted by the golden summer-eArth
  That lay beneath him like a glowing bowl
  And oneness and pure everlasting bliss,
  He sang no more the deathless heArt of Love,
  His chant was a hymn of Ignorance and Fate.
  And Love that broods within the dim abyss
  And waits the answer of the human heArt,
  And death that climbs to immortality.
  Immortal sweetness clasping immortal might,
  HeArt sensing heArt, thought looking straight at thought,
  He who has conquered the Immortals' seats,
  Came down to men on eArth the Man divine.
  As dArts a lightning streak, a glory fell
  Nearing until the rapt eyes of the sage
  Aspiring like a sacrificial flame
  Skyward from its eArth-seat through luminous air,
  Queen-browed, the human mother of Savitri.
  There for an hour untouched by the eArth's siege
  They ceased from common life and care and sat
  Spoke of the toils of men and what the gods
  Strive for on eArth, and joy that throbs behind
  The marvel and the mystery of pain.
  He sang to them of the lotus-heArt of love
  With all its thousand luminous buds of truth,
  Crept through the deep heArt of the universe.
  Even as he sang and rapture stole through eArth-time
  And caught the heavens, came with a call of hooves,
  As of her swift heArt hastening, Savitri;
  Her radiant tread glimmered across the floor.
  As one who comes from a heavenly embassy
  Discharging the proud mission of her heArt,
  One carrying the sanction of the gods
  She stood before her mighty father's throne
  And, eager for beauty on discovered eArth
  Transformed and new in her heArt's miracle-light,
  Saw like a rose of marvel, worshipping,
  Bringst thou this glory of enchanted eyes?
  EArth has gold-hued expanses, shadowy hills
  That cowl their dreaming phantom heads in night,
  In which some spirit's immortal bliss is felt,
  And they betray the eArth-born heArt to joy.
  Or, if my thought could trust this shimmering gaze,
  It would say thou hast not drunk from an eArthly cup,
  But stepping through azure curtains of the noon
  Reveal, O winged with light, whence thou hast flown
  Hastening bright-hued through the green tangled eArth,
  Thy body rhythmical with the spring-bird's call.
  Of a remembered clasp, and in thee glows
  A heavenly jar, thy firm deep-honied heArt,
  New-brimming with a sweet and nectarous wine.
  These things are only images to thy eArth,
  But truest truth of that which in thee sleeps.
  For such is thy spirit, a sister of the gods,
  Thy eArthly body lovely to the eyes
  And thou Art kin in joy to heaven's sons.
  Who hunts unseen the unconscious lives of men,
  If thy heArt could live locked in the ideal's gold,
  As high, as happy might thy waking be!
  As a cloud plays with lightnings' vivid laugh,
  But still holds back the thunder in its heArt,
  Only he let bright images escape.
  But calm like one who ever sits facing Fate
  Here mid the dangerous contours of eArth's life,
  He answered covert thought with guarded speech:
  I might see the steps of a young godlike life
  Happily beginning luminous-eyed on eArth;
  Between the Unknowable and the Unseen
  Although in pauses of our human lives
  EArth keeps for man some short and perfect hours
  When the inconstant tread of Time can seem
  Shaped in a splendour of gold-coloured bronze
  As if to seize eArth's truth of hidden bliss.
  Marvellous the moon floats on through wondering skies;
  EArth's flowers spring up and laugh at time and death;
  The charmed mutations of the enchanter life
  Shall pour the nectar of a sorrowless life
  Around her from her lucid heArt of love,
  Heal with her bliss the tired breast of eArth
  And cast like a happy snare felicity.
  A flame of radiant happiness she was born
  And surely will that flame set eArth alight:
  Doom surely will see her pass and say no word!
  The harp of God falls mute, its call to bliss
  Discouraged fails mid eArth's unhappy sounds;
  The strings of the siren Ecstasy cry not here
  Or soon are silenced in the human heArt.
  "On what high mission went her hastening wheels?
  Whence came she with this glory in her heArt
  And Paradise made visible in her eyes?
  Like a bright bird tired of her lonely branch,
  To find her own lord, since to her on eArth
  Virgin who comest perfected by joy,
  Reveal the name thy sudden heArt-beats learned.
  One whom I sought I found in distant lands;
  I have obeyed my heArt, I have heard its call.
  His limbs that faint beneath the whips of grief,
  His heArt that hears the tread of time and death.
  A single spirit in a multitude,
  Happy is Satyavan mid eArthly men
  Whom Savitri has chosen for her mate,
  Too heavy falls a Shadow on man's heArt;
  It dares not be too happy upon eArth.
  To lives that stand erect and front the World-Power:
  Her heArt appealed against the impArtial judge,
  Taxed with perversity the impersonal One.
  "What stealthy doom has crept across her path
  Emerging from the dark forest's sullen heArt,
  What evil thing stood smiling by the way
  There are dire alchemies of the human heArt
  And fallen from his ethereal element
  Strength have I my own punishment to bear,
  Knowing it just, but on this eArth perplexed,
  Smitten in the sorrow of scourged and helpless things,
  And the short-lived passion crossing mortal heArts.
  Even a stranger's anguish rends my heArt,
  And this, O Narad, is my well-loved child.
  Behind our seat by day, our couch by night,
  A Fate lurking in the shadow of our heArts,
  The anguish of the unseen that waits to strike.
  To know is best, however hard to bear."
  Then cried the sage piercing the mother's heArt,
  Forcing to steel the will of Savitri,
  The great Gods use the pain of human heArts
  As a sharp axe to hew their cosmic road:
  A marvel of the meeting eArth and heavens
  Is he whom Savitri has chosen mid men,
  The Happy in their bright ether have not heArts
  More sweet and true than this of mortal make
  In common things has made veilless his mind,
  A seer in eArth-shapes of garbless deity.
  A will to climb lifts a delight to live,
  Heaven's height companion of eArth-beauty's charm,
  An aspiration to the immortals' air
  His sweetness and his joy attract all heArts
  To live with his own in a glad tenancy,
  Shatter this vase before it breathes its sweets,
  As if eArth could not keep too long from heaven
  A treasure thus unique loaned by the gods,
  And perches careless on a branch of Time,
  This sovereign glory ends heaven lent to eArth,
  This splendour vanishes from the mortal's sky:
  Alas, in the green gladness of the woods
  Thy heArt has stooped to a misleading call.
  A choice less rare may call a happier fate."
  But Savitri answered from her violent heArt, -
  Her voice was calm, her face was fixed like steel:
  "Once my heArt chose and chooses not again.
  The truth once uttered, from the eArth's air effaced,
  By mind forgotten, sounds immortally
  My heArt has sealed its troth to Satyavan:
  Its signature adverse Fate cannot efface,
  Those who shall pArt who have grown one being within?
  Death's grip can break our bodies, not our souls;
  To her own despair answer the mother made;
  As one she cried who in her heavy heArt
  Labours amid the sobbing of her hopes
  Here on this mutable and ignorant eArth
  He whom thou lovest now, a stranger came
  And into a far strangeness shall depArt:
  His moment's pArt once done upon life's stage
  Which for a time was given him from within,
  Of his wild music changed compellingly
  By the passionate movements of a seeking HeArt
  In the inconstant links of hour with hour.
  To spread life's sails to the hurricane desire
  And call for pilot the unseeing heArt!
  O child, wilt thou proclaim, wilt thou then follow
  Thou who Art human, think not like a god.
  Or skirts the demon magnitudes of Hell;
  In the unreflecting passion of their heArts
  They dash their lives against the eternal Law
  But Savitri replied with steadfast eyes:
  "My will is pArt of the eternal Will,
  My fate is what my spirit's strength can make,
  My spirit has glimpsed the glory for which it came,
  The beating of one vast heArt in the flame of things,
  My eternity clasped by his eternity
  For I know now why my spirit came on eArth
  And who I am and who he is I love.

06.02_-_The_Way_of_Fate_and_the_Problem_of_Pain, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  A mother's heArt had heard the fateful speech
  That rang like a sanction to the call of death
  She shared, she bore the common lot of men
  And felt what common heArts endure in Time.
  Voicing eArth's question to the inscrutable power
  The queen now turned to the still immobile seer:
  Assailed by the discontent in Nature's depths,
  PArtner in the agony of dumb driven things
  And all the misery, all the ignorant cry,
  Lending her speech to the surface soul on eArth
  She uttered the suffering in the world's dumb heArt
  And man's revolt against his ignorant fate.
  "O seer, in the eArth's strange twi-natured life
  By what pitiless adverse Necessity
  And he stands helpless to defend or save?
  A fatal seed was sown in life's false stArt
  When evil twinned with good on eArthly soil.
  Privilege of souls not yet betrayed to birth,
  Cast down to suffer on this hard dangerous eArth
  Our life was born in pain and with a cry.
  Although eArth-nature welcomes heaven's breath
  Inspiring Matter with the will to live,
  Our bodies are an engine cunningly made,
  But for all its pArts as cunningly are planned,
  Contrived ingeniously with demon skill,
  Lost or mislaid in an uncaring world,
  Life is a marvel missed, an Art gone wry;
  A seeker in a dark and obscure place,
  His science is an Artificer of doom;
  He ransacks eArth for means to harm his kind;
  He slays his happiness and others' good.
  Even as of old in the raw youth of Time,
  When EArth ignorant ran on the highways of Fate,
  Old forms of evil cling to the world's soul:
  A pArt author of the cosmic tragedy,
  His will conspires with death and time and fate.
  His brief appearance on the enigmaed eArth
  Ever recurs but brings no high result
  Then after a silence Narad made reply:
  Tuning his lips to eArthly sound he spoke,
  And something now of the deep sense of fate
  "Was then the sun a dream because there is night?
  Hidden in the mortal's heArt the Eternal lives:
  He lives secret in the chamber of thy soul,
  Thy mind's light hides from thee the Eternal's thought,
  Thy heArt's hopes hide from thee the Eternal's will,
  EArth's joys shut from thee the Immortal's bliss.
  By pain a spirit stArted from the clod,
  By pain Life stirred in the subliminal deep.
  Pain is the hammer of the Gods to break
  A dead resistance in the mortal's heArt,
  His slow inertia as of living stone.
  If the heArt were not forced to want and weep,
  His soul would have lain down content, at ease,
  And never thought to exceed the human stArt
  And never learned to climb towards the Sun.
  This eArth is full of labour, packed with pain;
  This eArth is full of the anguish of the gods;
  Ever they travail driven by Time's goad,
  Against the deep folly of his human mind,
  Against the blind reluctance of his heArt.
  It is finished, the dread mysterious sacrifice,
  Offered by God's mArtyred body for the world;
  Gethsemane and Calvary are his lot,
  Hewn, quArtered on the scaffold as he falls,
  His crucified voice proclaims, 'I, I am God;'
  The seed of Godhead sleeps in mortal heArts,
  The flower of Godhead grows on the world-tree:
  But when God's messenger comes to help the world
  And lead the soul of eArth to higher things,
  He too must carry the yoke he came to unloose;
  He too must bear the pang that he would heal:
  Exempt and unafflicted by eArth's fate,
  How shall he cure the ills he never felt?
  But though to the outward eye no sign appears
  And peace is given to our torn human heArts,
  The struggle is there and paid the unseen price;
  Its sins weigh on his thoughts, its grief is his:
  EArth's ancient load lies heavy on his soul;
  Night and its powers beleaguer his tardy steps,
  Life's evil smites, he is stricken with the world's pain:
  A million wounds gape in his secret heArt.
  He is lashed with the whips that tear the world's worn heArt;
  The weeping of the centuries visits his eyes:
  The Immortal bound to eArth's mortality
  Appearing and perishing on the roads of Time
  A dark concealed hostility is lodged
  In the human depths, in the hidden heArt of Time
  That claims the right to change and mar God's work.
  It stamps stain and defect on all things done;
  Till it is slain peace is forbidden on eArth.
  Touches from alien realms, thoughts not our own
  Overtake us and compel the erring heArt;
  Our lives are caught in an ambiguous net.
  Contorts the contours of the cosmic plan:
  A whisper lures to evil the human heArt,
  It seals up wisdom's eyes, the soul's regard,
  It is the origin of our suffering here,
  It binds eArth to calamity and pain.
  A few are saved, the rest strive on and fail:
  A Sun has passed, on eArth Night's shadow falls.
  Escape, however high, redeems not life,
  Life that is left behind on a fallen eArth.
  Although Light grows on eArth and Night recedes,
  Yet till the evil is slain in its own home
  The ineffable planes already have felt his tread;
  He has made heaven and eArth his instruments,
  But the limits fall from him of eArth and heaven;
  Their law he transcends but uses as his means.
  He has seized life's hands, he has mastered his own heArt.
  In the dreadful passages, the fatal paths,
  Invulnerable his soul, his heArt unslain,
  He lives through the opposition of eArth's Powers
  And Nature's ambushes and the world's attacks.
  Arisen from Nothingness and towards Nothingness turned,
  Its dark and potent nescience was eArth's stArt;
  It is the waste stuff from which all was made;
  Else never can Truth conquer Matter's sleep
  And all eArth look into the eyes of God.
  The heArt of evil must be bared to his eyes,
  He must learn its cosmic dark necessity,
  And justifies the Titan's erring pride
  And the falsehood lurking in eArth's crooked dreams:
  He must enter the eternity of Night
  EArth shall be made a home of Heaven's light,
  A seer heaven-born shall lodge in human breasts;
  The superconscient beam shall touch men's eyes
  And the truth-conscious world come down to eArth
  Invading Matter with the Spirit's ray,
  Awaking its silence to immortal thoughts,
  Awaking the dumb heArt to the living Word.
  Obstructing the gods' open ways he makes
  His own estate of the eArth's air and light;
  A monopolist of the world-energy,
  The Titan's heArt is a sea of fire and force;
  He exults in the death of things and ruin and fall,
  His eyes blinded and visionless stare at the sun,
  The seeker's Sight receding from his heArt
  Can find no more the light of eternity;
  A power is in thee that thou knowest not;
  Thou Art a vessel of the imprisoned spark.
  Because thy strength is a pArt and not God's whole,
  Because afflicted by the little self
  This troubled world thou hast chosen for thy home,
  Thou Art thyself the author of thy pain.
  This haunt of Ignorance, this home of Pain:
  There are pitched desire's tents, grief's headquArters.
  Than sealed Thought wakes to, but of this high script
  How shall my voice convince the mind of eArth?
  Heaven's wiser love rejects the mortal's prayer;
  Or the dead hand of cold Necessity;
  He answers not to the mystic Mother s heArt,
  Misses the ardent heavings of her breast
  On the altar throwing thy thoughts, thy heArt, thy works,
  Thy fate is a long sacrifice to the gods
  Across the dust and mire of the eArthly plain,
  On many guarded lines and dangerous fronts,
  Bring not thy brief and helpless human tears
  Across the fathomless moments of a heArt
  That knows its single will and God's as one:
  It can embrace its hostile destiny;
  It sits apArt with grief and facing death,
  Affronting adverse fate armed and alone.
  In this enormous world standing apArt
  In the mightiness of her silent spirit's will,
  Affronting fate, asks not man's help nor god's:
  Sometimes one life is charged with eArth's destiny,
  It cries not for succour from the time-bound powers.
  Carrying the world's future on her lonely breast,
  Carrying the human hope in a heArt left sole
  To conquer or fail on a last desperate verge,
  When she stands sole with Death or sole with God
  ApArt upon a silent desperate brink,
  Alone with her self and death and destiny
  And the heArt fails and only are death and night,
  God-given her strength can battle against doom
  But leave her to her mighty self and Fate."
  He spoke and ceased and left the eArthly scene.
  But still a cry was heard in the infinite,
  And still to the listening soul on mortal eArth
  A high and far imperishable voice

07.01_-_The_Joy_of_Union;_the_Ordeal_of_the_Foreknowledge, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  The Joy of Union; the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the HeArt's Grief and Pain
  FATE followed her foreseen immutable road.
  But greater spirits this balance can reverse
  And make the soul the Artist of its fate.
  All was fulfilled the heArt of Savitri
  Flower-sweet and adamant, passionate and calm,
  A couchant eArth wakened in its dumb muse
  Looked up at her from a vast indolence:
  Some timeless beauty and reality,
  The moon-gold sweetness of heaven's eArth-born child.
  In a sunlit clearing that seemed the outbreak
  Of a glad smile in the forest's monstrous heArt,
  A rude refuge of the thought and will of man
  But all things only hoped for her one child,
  Calling on that single head from pArtial Fate
  All joy of eArth, all heaven's beatitude.
  Lingering some days upon the forest verge
  Like men who lengthen out depArture's pain,
  Unwilling to separate sorrowful clinging hands,
  Who breaks with idle hands her supreme works,
  They pArted from her with pain-fraught burdened heArts
  As forced by inescapable fate we pArt
  From one whom we shall never see again;
  Driven by the singularity of her fate,
  Helpless against the choice of Savitri's heArt
  They left her to her rapture and her doom
  Priceless she deemed her joy so close to death;
  ApArt with love she lived for love alone.
  A fusing of the joys of eArth and heaven,
  A tremulous blaze of nuptial rapture passed,
  Opened were gates of unforgettable bliss:
  Two lives were locked within an eArthly heaven
  And fate and grief fled from that fiery hour.
  The shadow of her lover's doom arose
  And fear laid hands upon her mortal heArt.
  And swimming in foreboding's sombre waves
  And feeding sorrow and terror with her heArt, -
  For now they sat among her bosom's guests
  Or in her inner chamber paced apArt, -
  Her eyes stared blind into the future's night.
  Moving amid the unconscious faces loved,
  In mind a stranger though in heArt so near,
  The ignorant smiling world go happily by
  Enshrined her as if in a silver bower
  ApArt in a bright nest of thoughts and dreams
  Made room for tragic hours of solitude
  Who sees life's drama pass with unmoved eyes,
  Supports the sorrow of the mind and heArt
  And bears in human breasts the world and fate.
  Only her violent heArt and passionate will
  Were pushed in front to meet the immutable doom;
  Into a simplest movement she could bring
  A oneness with eArth's glowing robe of light,
  A lifting up of common acts by love.
  Imprint thyself for every nerve to keep
  That thrills to thee the message of my heArt.
  For soon we pArt and who shall know how long
  Before the great wheel in its monstrous round
  Or felt at least with the uncertain answer
  Of our thought-blinded heArts the unuttered need,
  The unplumbed abyss of her deep passionate want.
  By the nearness of his presence and his clasp,
  And lavish softness of heArt-seeking words
  And the close beating felt of heArt on heArt.
  Yet ever they grew into each other more
  Until it seemed no power could rend apArt,
  Since even the body's walls could not divide.
  Increased by its torment it filled the whole world;
  It was all her life, became her whole eArth and heaven.
  And rain dripped wearily through the mournful air
  And grey slow-drifting clouds shut in the eArth.
  So her grief's heavy sky shut in her heArt.
  Only in the privacy of its brooding pain
  Her human heArt spoke to the body's fate.

07.02_-_The_Parable_of_the_Search_for_the_Soul, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Around her body's stillness all grew still:
  Her heArt listened to its slow measured beats,
  Her mind renouncing thought heard and was mute:
  "Why camest thou to this dumb deathbound eArth,
  This ignorant life beneath indifferent skies
  O spirit, O immortal energy,
  If 'twas to nurse grief in a helpless heArt
  Or with hard tearless eyes await thy doom?
  Arise, O soul, and vanquish Time and Death."
  But Savitri's heArt replied in the dim night:
  "My strength is taken from me and given to Death.
  A greater Law into man's little world?
  Why should I strive with eArth's unyielding laws
  Or stave off death's inevitable hour?
  Across the tenebrous river that divides
  The adjoining parishes of eArth and heaven.
  Then could we lie inarmed breast upon breast,
  Untroubled by thought, untroubled by our heArts,
  Forgetting man and life and time and its hours,
  The work was left undone for which it came?
  Or is this all for thy being born on eArth
  Charged with a mandate from eternity,
  Shall there be no new tables, no new Word,
  No greater light come down upon the eArth
  Delivering her from her unconsciousness,
  His labourer returns, her task undone?"
  Then Savitri's heArt fell mute, it spoke no word.
  But holding back her troubled rebel heArt,
  Abrupt, erect and strong, calm like a hill,
  Conquer thy heArt's throbs, let thy heArt beat in God:
  Thy nature shall be the engine of his works,
  It looked around it on its difficult field
  In the green wonderful and perilous eArth;
  It hoped in a brief body to survive,
  Lay a dire custom's claim upon his heArt:
  Aroused from sleep, they can be bound no more.
  Hell's companies are loosed to do their work,
  Into the eArth-ways they break out from all doors,
  Invade with blood-lust and the will to slay
  Death and his hunters stalk a victim eArth;
  The terrible Angel smites at every door:
  This evil Nature housed in human heArts,
  A foreign inhabitant, a dangerous guest:
  A vast subliminal is man's measureless pArt.
  To words that force the barrier of the lips,
  To deeds that suddenly stArt and o'erleap
  His head of reason and his guardian will.
  The seeds of sins renounced sprout from hid soil;
  The evil cast from our heArts once more we face;
  Our dead selves come to slay our living soul.
  It shall descend and make eArth's life divine.
  Our larger being sits behind cryptic walls:
  There are greatnesses hidden in our unseen pArts
  That wait their hour to step into life's front:
  Our soul from its mysterious chamber acts;
  Its influence pressing on our heArt and mind
  Pushes them to exceed their mortal selves.
  He stood erect, a godlike form and force,
  And a soul's thoughts looked out from eArth-born eyes;
  Man stood erect, he wore the thinker's brow:
  A vision came of beauty and greater birth
  Slowly emerging from the heArt's chapel of light
  And moved in a white lucent air of dreams.
  He gazed into the future and the unseen;
  He used the powers eArth-instruments cannot use,
  A pastime made of the impossible;
  Thus man in his little house made of eArth's dust
  Grew towards an unseen heaven of thought and dream
  Aspiring he transcends his eArthly self;
  He stands in the largeness of his soul new-born,
  A portion of the mighty Mother came
  Into her as into its own human pArt:
  Amid the cosmic workings of the Gods
  EArth must transform herself and equal Heaven
  Or Heaven descend into eArth's mortal state.
  But for such vast spiritual change to be,
  Out of the mystic cavern in man's heArt

07.03_-_The_Entry_into_the_Inner_Countries, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  But when she came back to her self of thought,
  Once more she was a human thing on eArth,
  A lump of Matter, a house of closed sight,
  And looked into her subtle being's depths
  And in its heArt as in a lotus-bud
  Divined her secret and mysterious soul.
  A formidable voice cried from within:
  "Back, creature of eArth, lest tortured and torn thou die."
  A dreadful murmur rose like a dim sea;
  At last she broke into a form of things,
  A stArt of finiteness, a world of sense:
  But all was still confused, nothing self-found.
  A jostled sequence lacking sense and suite,
  Feelings pushed through a packed and burdened heArt,
  Each forced its separate inconsequent way
  A thousand voices in a muted Vast,
  It claimed the heArt's support for its clutch at joy,
  For its need to act the witness Soul's consent,
  Its lure and magic of disordered bliss,
  Into eArth-light poured its maze of tangled charm
  And heady draught of Nature's primitive joy
  To long for the unfulfilled and ever far
  And make this life upon a limiting eArth
  A climb towards summits vanishing in the void,
  It chased into an Elysian memory
  The charms that flee from the heArt's soon lost delight;
  It dared the force that slays, the joys that hurt,
  These powers were not blunt with the dead weight of eArth,
  They gave ambrosia's taste and poison's sting.
  Yet some uncaught, unslain, can warily pass
  Carrying Truth's image in the sheltered heArt,
  Pluck Knowledge out of error's screening grip,
  Then smiled again a large and tranquil air:
  Blue heaven, green eArth, pArtners of Beauty's reign,
  Lived as of old, companions in happiness;
  And in the world's heArt laughed the joy of life.
  There Life dwelt parked in an armed tranquillity;
  A chain was on her strong insurgent heArt.
  Thought based a throne on unsubstantial air
  Disdaining eArth's flat triviality:
  It barred reality out to live in its dreams.
  Meet with the heArt's passion the Adorable
  Or set the world ablaze with the inner Fire.
  A mind shut to the cry and fire of love:
  A rational religion dried the heArt.
  "Traveller or pilgrim of the inner world,
  Fortunate Art thou to reach our brilliant air
  Flaming with thought's supreme finality.
  Savitri replied casting into his world
  Sight's deep release, the heArt's questioning inner voice:
  For here the heArt spoke not, only clear daylight
  Of intellect reigned here, limiting, cold, precise.
  In this uncertain and ambiguous world,
  Or who have planted in the heArt's rich soil
  One small grain of spiritual certitude.
  All that is here is pArt of our own self;
  Our minds have made the world in which we live."
  Aspiration's sun-dream head and star-carved limbs,
  Emotions making common heArts sublime.
  Longed once to hasten like them to save God's world;
  But she reined back the high passion in her heArt;
  She knew that first she must discover her soul.
  Reveal, who know, the road that I must tread, -
  For surely that bright quArter is your home, -
  To find the birthplace of the occult Fire

07.04_-_The_Triple_Soul-Forces, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  This dubious cosmos stretched in the ignorant Void,
  The pangs of eArth, the toil and speed of the stars
  And the difficult birth and dolorous end of life.
  The Mother of the seven sorrows bore
  The seven stabs that pierced her bleeding heArt:
  The beauty of sadness lingered on her face,
  Her heArt was riven with the world's agony
  And burdened with the sorrow and struggle in Time,
  The heArts that spurned my love and zeal I serve;
  I am the courted queen, the pampered doll,
  Mine is the prayer that climbs in vain from eArth,
  I am traversed by my creatures' agonies,
  The scream of tortured flesh and tortured heArts
  Fall'n back on heArt and flesh unheard by Heaven
  Has rent with helpless grief and wrath my soul.
  Its press of troubles and haggard horde of ills,
  EArth's trail of sorrow hopeless of relief,
  The unwanted tedious labour without joy,
  I have been pity, leaning over pain
  And the tender smile that heals the wounded heArt
  And sympathy making life less hard to bear.
  Who is nailed on the wide cross of the universe;
  To enjoy my agony God built the eArth,
  My passion he has made his drama's theme.
  So God has made his harsh and dreadful world,
  So has he built the petty heArt of man.
  There is a dull consent in my sluggish heArt,
  A fierce satisfaction with my special pangs
  "Madonna of suffering, Mother of grief divine,
  Thou Art a portion of my soul put forth
  To bear the unbearable sorrow of the world.
  Because thou Art, men yield not to their doom,
  But ask for happiness and strive with fate;
  Because thou Art, the wretched still can hope.
  His streams of force shall triumph in thy limbs
  And Wisdom's calm control thy passionate heArt.
  Compassion the bright key of Nature's acts:
  Misery shall pass abolished from the eArth;
  The world shall be freed from the anger of the Beast,
  An ardent grandeur climbed mid ferns and rocks,
  A quiet wind flattered the heArt to warmth,
  A finer perfume breathed from slender trees.
  A charm restoring hope in failing heArts
  Aspired the harmony of her puissant voice:
  And the movement watched by an unsleeping Eye
  And the dark contrariety of eArth's fate
  And the battle of the bright and sombre Powers.
  I stand upon eArth's paths of danger and grief
  And help the unfortunate and save the doomed.
  Uncaring I serve his will who sent me forth,
  Reckless of peril and eArthly consequence.
  I reason not of virtue and of sin
  But do the deed he has put into my heArt.
  And force his sorrowful eyes to gaze at the sun
  That he may die to eArth and live in his soul.
  But the great obstinate world resists my Word,
  And the crookedness and evil in man's heArt
  Is stronger than Reason, profounder than the Pit,
  But my heArt I have hardened and I do my work:
  Slowly the light grows greater in the East,
  The Ego of this great world of desire
  Claimed eArth and the wide heavens for the use
  Of man, head of the life it shapes on eArth,
  Its representative and conscious soul,
  Inescapably by a deep law in things
  His heArt's grief and his body's death and pain:
  His pains are her means to grow, to see and feel;
  "I am the heir of the forces of the eArth,
  Slowly I make good my right to my estate;
  The last-born of the eArth I stand the first;
  Her slow millenniums waited for my birth.
  The eArth is my floor, the sky my living's roof.
  Make iron velvet, water unbreakable stone,
  Like God in his astuce of Artist skill,
  Mould from one primal plasm protean forms,
  I have studied my being, I have examined the world,
  I have grown a master of the Arts of life.
  To see far distance and to hear far words;
  I have conquered Space and knitted close all eArth.
  I shall slay my enemies with a look or thought,
  I shall sense the unspoken feelings of all heArts
  And see and hear the hidden thoughts of men.
  When eArth is mastered, I shall conquer heaven;
  The gods shall be my aides or menial folk,
  "Madonna of might, Mother of works and force,
  Thou Art a portion of my soul put forth
  To help mankind and help the travail of Time.
  Because thou Art in him, man hopes and dares;
  Because thou Art, men's souls can climb the heavens
  And walk like gods in the presence of the Supreme.
  Then hate shall dwell no more in human heArts,
  And fear and weakness shall desert men's lives,
  And all that is common and natural and sweet,
  Yet intimately divine to heArt and soul.
  Her feet were moonbeams, her face was a bright sun,
  Her smile could persuade a dead lacerated heArt
  To live again and feel the hands of calm.
  I have come down to the wounded desolate eArth
  To heal her pangs and lull her heArt to rest
  And lay her head upon the Mother s lap
  And draw the harmony of higher spheres
  Into the rhythm of eArth's rude troubled days.
  In the anomalies of the human heArt
  Where Good and Evil are close bedfellows
  He is the crown of the mArtyr burned in flame
  And the glad resignation of the saint
  But human mind clings to its ignorance
  And to its littleness the human heArt
  And to its right to grief the eArthly life.
  I bring meanwhile the gods upon the eArth;
  I bring back hope to the despairing heArt;
  I give peace to the humble and the great,
  I shall save eArth, if eArth consents to be saved.
  Then Love shall at last unwounded tread eArth's soil;
  Man's mind shall admit the sovereignty of Truth
  Hedged by the limits of a mortal's thoughts,
  Bound in the chains of eArthly ignorance.
  Or share in his vast and deep identity
  Who stands unguessed within our ignorant heArts
  And knows all things because he is one with all.
  But soon he stops, he cannot reach life's core
  Or commune with the throbbing heArt of things.
  I have delved into eArth's bowels and torn out
  The riches guarded by her dull brown soil.
  "Madonna of light, Mother of joy and peace,
  Thou Art a portion of my self put forth
  To raise the spirit to its forgotten heights
  Because thou Art, the soul draws near to God;
  Because thou Art, love grows in spite of hate
  And knowledge walks unslain in the pit of Night.
  Upon the intellect's hard and rocky soil
  Can the tree of Paradise flower on eArthly ground
  And the Bird of Paradise sit upon life's boughs
  Even if thou rain down intuition's rays,
  The mind of man will think it eArth's own gleam,
  His spirit by spiritual ego sink,
  His hunger for the eternal thou must nurse
  And fill his yearning heArt with heaven's fire
  And bring God down into his body and life.

07.05_-_The_Finding_of_the_Soul, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  This inefficient mind gave up its thoughts,
  The striving heArt its unavailing hopes.
  All was abolished save her naked self
  And the prostrate yearning of her surrendered heArt:
  There was no strength in her, no pride of force;
  It lay withdrawn even from life's inner sense,
  Receding from the entangled heArt's desire.
  Of the triune being who is all and one
  And yet is no one but himself apArt.
  Thence all depArted into silent self,
  And all became formless and pure and bare.
  In the mystery of its selecting will,
  In the Divine Comedy a pArticipant,
  The Spirit's conscious representative,
  The passion of the game lighted her eyes:
  A smile on her lips welcomed eArth's bliss and grief,
  A laugh was her return to pleasure and pain.
  A being no bigger than the thumb of man
  Into a hidden region of the heArt
  To face the pang and to forget the bliss,
  To share the suffering and endure eArth's wounds
  And labour mid the labour of the stars.
  She gives us strength to do our daily task
  And sympathy that pArtakes of others' grief
  And the little strength we have to help our race,
  In body weak, in its heArt an invincible might,
  It climbs stumbling, held up by an unseen hand,
  They looked upon each other, knew themselves,
  The secret deity and its human pArt,
  The calm immortal and the struggling soul.
  Once more she was human upon eArthly soil
  In the muttering night amid the rain-swept woods
  But now the half-opened lotus bud of her heArt
  Had bloomed and stood disclosed to the eArthly ray;
  In an image shone revealed her secret soul.
  Calling the mighty Mother of the worlds
  To make this eArthly tenement her house.
  A living image of the original Power,
  A face, a form came down into her heArt
  And made of it its temple and pure abode.
  Powers and divinities burst flaming forth;
  Each pArt of the being trembling with delight
  Lay overwhelmed with tides of happiness
  Where speech must rise and the expressing mind
  And the heArt's impulse run towards word and act,
  A glad uplift and a new working came.
  The immortal's thoughts displaced our bounded view,
  The immortal's thoughts eArth's drab idea and sense;
  All things now bore a deeper heavenlier sense.
  God's meaning in it for which it was made
  And the vivid splendour of his Artist thought.
  In the kingdom of the lotus of the heArt
  Love chanting its pure hymeneal hymn
  Were tamed into instruments of a great calm sway
  To do a work of God on eArthly soil.
  In the narrow nether centre's petty pArts
  Its childish game of daily dwarf desires
  But once the hidden doors are flung apArt
  Then the veiled king steps out in Nature's front;
  Then sin and virtue leave the cosmic lists;
  They struggle no more in our delivered heArts:
  Our acts chime with God's simple natural good
  There is won a new proximity to the skies,
  A first betrothal of the EArth to Heaven,
  A deep concordat between Truth and Life:

07.06_-_Nirvana_and_the_Discovery_of_the_All-Negating_Absolute, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  And Savitri's life was glad, fulfilled like eArth's;
  She had found herself, she knew her being's aim.
  A light invaded all from her being's light;
  Her heArt-beats' dance communicated bliss:
  Happiness grew happier, shared with her, by her touch
  Or borne to blissful regions far from her
  Forgetting the sweetness of eArth's warm delight,
  Forgetting the passionate oneness of love's clasp,
  In kinship with the days of bird and beast
  And levelled to the bareness of eArth's brown breast,
  But mid the thinking high-built lives of men
  Together by love's unseen atmosphere,
  Inseparable like the eArth and sky.
  And made her joy a bridge twixt eArth and heaven,
  An abyss yawned suddenly beneath her heArt.
  A denser darkness than the Night could bear,
  Enveloped the heavens and possessed the eArth.
  That felt life blank and nowhere found a soul,
  A voice to the dumb anguish of the heArt
  Conveyed a stark sense of unspoken words;
  "Who Art thou who claimst thy crown of separate birth,
  To give a body to the Unknowable,
  Or for a sanction to thy heArt's delight
  To burden with bliss the silent still Supreme
  It left behind her inner world laid waste:
  A barren silence weighed upon her heArt,
  Her kingdom of delight was there no more;
  Then from the heights a greater Voice came down,
  The Word that touches the heArt and finds the soul,
  The voice of Light after the voice of Night:
  Hide whilst thou canst thy treasure of separate self
  Behind the luminous rampArt of thy depths
  Till of a vaster empire it grows pArt.
  Accept to be small and human on the eArth,
  Interrupting thy new-born divinity,
  To open to Light the eyes that could not see,
  To bring down bliss into the heArt of grief,
  To make thy life a bridge twixt eArth and heaven;
  If thou wouldst save the toiling universe,
  God must be born on eArth and be as man
  That man being human may grow even as God.
  He who would save the world must be one with the world,
  All suffering things contain in his heArt's space
  And bear the grief and joy of all that lives.
  The animal instincts prowling mid life's trees,
  The impulses that whisper to the heArt
  And passion's thunder-chase sweeping the nerves;
  Luminous with mysteried lips and wonderful eyes;
  Or from her heArt emerged some burning face
  And looked for life and love and passionate truth,
  Across the dull sky of man's common days,
  Amidst the doubtful certitudes of eArth's lore,
  To the celestial beauty of faith gave form,
  A thaumaturgist sat in her heArt's deep,
  Compelled the forward stride, the upward look,
  In flashing armour, folding hands of prayer,
  And poured heaven's rays into the eArthly form.
  Imaginations flamed up from her breast,
  UneArthly beauty, touches of surpassing joy
  And plans of miracle, dreams of delight:
  The beings of the subtle realms appeared
  And scenes concealed behind our eArthly scene;
  She saw the life of remote continents
  The great world's thoughts were pArt of her own thought,
  The feelings dumb for ever and unshared,
  Is made, not born, a product perishable,
  Forged in the body's factory by eArth-force.
  With raw material drawn from the outside world,
  The patterns sketched out by an Artist God.
  And passed through the subconscient's galleries,
  Then issued in Time's mArt as private make.
  A sample from the laboratory of God
  Of which he holds the patent upon eArth,
  Comes to him wrapped in golden coverings;
  Emotion slept deep down in the still heArt
  Or lay buried in a cemetery of peace:
  All feelings seemed quiescent, calm or dead,
  As if the heArt-strings rent could work no more
  And joy and grief could never rise again.
  The heArt beat on with an unconscious rhythm
  But no response came from it and no cry.
  Her consciousness looked on and took no pArt;
  All it upheld, in nothing had a share.
  It knew without knowledge all that could be known,
  It saw impArtially the world go by,
  But in the same supine unmoving glance
  The nerve's brief answer to each contact's knock,
  The heArt's quiverings felt as joy and grief and love
  Were twitchings of the body, their seeming self,

07.07_-_The_Discovery_of_the_Cosmic_Spirit_and_the_Cosmic_Consciousness, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  The Discovery of the Cosmic Spirit and the Cosmic Consciousness
  IN THE little hermitage in the forest's heArt,
  In the sunlight and the moonlight and the dark
  Pressing her close in her environing arms,
  As if eArth ever the same could for ever keep
  The living spirit and body in her clasp,
  Her eyes looked out on eArth's unchanging face,
  Around her soul's muteness all moved as of old;
  She turned to the face of a veiled voiceless Truth
  Hid in the dumb recesses of the heArt
  It seized on speech to give those flamings shape,
  Made beat the heArt of wisdom in a word
  And spoke immortal things through mortal lips.
  These thoughts were formed not in her listening brain,
  Her vacant heArt was like a stringless harp;
  Impassive the body claimed not its own voice,
  It called not for the witness of the mind,
  It spoke not to the hushed receiving heArt;
  It came direct to the pure perception's seat,
  A voice began to speak from her own heArt
  That was not hers, yet mastered thought and sense.
  An individual, one with cosmic self
  In the heArt of the Transcendent's miracle
  And the secret of World-personality
  All Nature's happenings were events in her,
  The heArt-beats of the cosmos were her own,
  All beings thought and felt and moved in her;
  The thoughts of others were her intimates,
  Their feelings close to her universal heArt,
  Their bodies her many bodies kin to her;
  The distant constellations wheeled round her;
  EArth saw her born, all worlds were her colonies,
  The greater worlds of life and mind were hers;
  She burned in the passion and splendour of the rose,
  She was the red heArt of the passion-flower,
  The dream-white of the lotus in its pool.
  Out of subconscient life she climbed to mind,
  She was thought and the passion of the world's heArt,
  She was the godhead hid in the heArt of man,
  She was the climbing of his soul to God.

08.03_-_Death_in_the_Forest, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Only the needed utterance passage found:
  All else she pressed back into her anguished heArt
  And forced upon her speech an outward peace.
  Now has a strong desire seized all my heArt
  To go with Satyavan holding his hand
  And hear at ease the birds and the scurrying life
  That stArts and ceases, rich far rustle of boughs
  And all the mystic whispering of the woods.
  Release me now and let my heArt have rest."
  She answered: "Do as thy wise mind desires,
  Pitying our barren days; so dost thou serve
  Even as a slave might, yet Art thou beyond
  All that thou doest, all our minds conceive,
  Like the strong sun that serves eArth from above."
  Then the doomed husband and the woman who knew
  They two might wander free in the green deep
  Primaeval mystery of the forest's heArt.
  She like a pantheress leaped upon his words
  And carried them into her cavern heArt.
  Silently, and all his suffering breath besieged
  Strove to rend life's strong heArt-cords and be free.

09.01_-_Towards_the_Black_Void, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  But still the human heArt in her beat on.
  The moments on great wings of lightning come
  And godlike thoughts surprise the mind of eArth.
  Now to the limitless gaze disclosed that sees
  Things barred from human thinking's eArthly lids,
  The Spirit who had hidden in Nature soared
  Above her where she had worked in her lone mind
  Labouring apArt in a sole tower of self,
  The source of all which she had seemed or wrought,
  Linking Time's seconds to infinity,
  Illimitably it girt the eArth and her:
  It sank into her soul and she was changed.
  Making life's sea a mirror of heaven's sky,
  The young divinity in her eArthly limbs
  Filled with celestial strength her mortal pArt.
  Her grief had passed away, her mind was still,
  Her heArt beat quietly with a sovereign force.
  There came a freedom from the heArt-strings' clutch,
  Now all her acts sprang from a godhead's calm.
  She raised her noble head; fronting her gaze
  Something stood there, uneArthly, sombre, grand,
  A limitless denial of all being
  Pitying arose, receiving all that lives
  For ever into its fathomless heArt, refuge
  Of creatures from their anguish and world-pain.
  Laid upon her their huge and lifeless look,
  And to her ears, silencing eArthly sounds,
  A sad and formidable voice arose
  Leave now the once-loved spirit's abandoned robe:
  Pass lonely back to thy vain life on eArth."
  It ceased, she moved not, and it spoke again,
  Denying his soul death's calm and silent rest?
  Relax thy grasp; this body is eArth's and thine,
  His spirit now belongs to a greater power.
  Woman, thy husband suffers." Savitri
  Drew back her heArt's force that clasped his body still
  Where from her lap renounced on the smooth grass
  The dim and awful godhead rose erect
  From his brief stooping to his touch on eArth,
  And, like a dream that wakes out of a dream,
  Another luminous Satyavan arose,
  StArting upright from the recumbent eArth
  As if someone over viewless borders stepped
  In the eArth's day the silent marvel stood
  Between the mortal woman and the god.
  Such seemed he as if one depArted came
  Wearing the light of a celestial shape
  Too strange the brilliant phantasm to life's clasp
  Desiring the warm creations of the eArth
  Reared in the ardour of material suns,
  Only the spirit knew the spirit still,
  And the heArt divined the old loved heArt, though changed.
  So were they immobile on that eArthly field,
  Powers not of eArth, though one in human clay.
  Around her on the green and imaged eArth
  The flickering screen of forests ringed her steps;
  Softly entreated by their old desires
  Her senses felt eArth's close and gentle air
  Cling round them and in troubled branches knew
  EArth stood aloof, yet near: round her it wove
  Its sweetness and its greenness and delight,
  They seemed to enlarge away, drawn by some wide
  Pale distance, from the warm control of eArth
  And her grown far: now, now they would escape.
  A moment of a secret body's sleep,
  Her trance knew not of sun or eArth or world;
  Thought, time and death were absent from her grasp:
  Her sovereign prisoned in her being's core,
  He beat there like a rhythmic heArt, - herself
  But different still, one loved, enveloped, clasped,
  Think not thy mind-born passion strength from heaven
  To uplift thy spirit from its eArthly base
  And, breaking out from the material cage,

09.02_-_The_Journey_in_Eternal_Night_and_the_Voice_of_the_Darkness, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  And the creative rapture of the Mind
  And Love and Knowledge and heArt's delight, there fell
  The immense refusal of the eternal No.
  Which grasp externally and find to lose,
  Its object loved. So when on eArth they lived
  She had felt him straying through the glades, the glades
  Opening their secrets to his search and joy,
  Because to jealous sweetness in her heArt
  Whatever happy space his cherished feet
  Her limbs refused the cold embrace of death,
  Her heArt-beats triumphed in the grasp of pain;
  Her soul persisted claiming for its joy
  Vast like the surge in a tired swimmer's ears,
  Clamouring, a fatal iron-heArted roar,
  Death missioned to the night his lethal call.
  Hast thou beheld thy source, O transient heArt,
  And known from what the dream thou Art was made?
  In this stark sincerity of nude emptiness
  What shall the ancient goddess give to thee
  Who helps thy heArt-beats? Only she prolongs
  The nothing dreamed existence and delays
  He sees above him with a longing heArt
  Bare spaces more unconscious than himself
  For the sea roars around him and eArth quakes
  Beneath his steps, and fire is at his doors,
  The gods who watch the eArth with sleepless eyes
  And guide its giant stumblings through the void,
  Have given to man the burden of his mind;
  In his unwilling heArt they have lit their fires
  And sown in it incurable unrest.
  But if thou still canst hope and still wouldst love,
  Return to thy body's shell, thy tie to eArth,
  And with thy heArt's little remnants try to live.
  The pacts which transient beings make with fate,
  And the wayside sweetness eArth-bound heArts would pluck,
  These if thy will accepts make freely thine.
  A stir of thoughts out of some silence born
  Across the sea of her dumb fathomless heArt.
  They lay the law of Mind on Matter's works
  And win the soul's wish from eArth's inconscient Force.
  Death bowed his head in scornful cold assent,
  The builder of this dreamlike eArth for man
  Who has mocked with vanity all gifts he gave.
  "Indulgent to the dreams my touch shall break,
  I yield to his blind father's longing heArt
  Kingdom and power and friends and greatness lost
  For that this man desired and asked in vain
  While still he lived on eArth and cherished hope.
  Out of thy shadow give me back again
  Into eArth's flowering spaces Satyavan
  In the sweet transiency of human limbs
  I will bear with him the ancient Mother s load,
  I will follow with him eArth's path that leads to God.
  So from the darkness of the sovereign night
  Against the Woman's boundless heArt arose
  The almighty cry of universal Death.
  Lest in their sombre shrines thy tread awake
  From their uneasy iron-heArted sleep
  The Furies who avenge fulfilled desire.
  Dread lest in skies where passion hoped to live,
  The Unknown's lightnings stArt and, terrified,
  Lone, sobbing, hunted by the hounds of heaven,
  I will take from thee the black eternal grip:
  Clasping in thy heArt thy fate's exiguous dole
  DepArt in peace, if peace for man is just."
  But Savitri answered meeting scorn with scorn,
  Not he who has reared his temple in my thoughts
  And made his sacred floor my human heArt.
  To please for a few years thy faltering sense
  With honey of physical longings and the heArt's fire
  And, a vain oneness seeking, to embrace
  And thou, what Art thou, soul, thou glorious dream
  Of brief emotions made and glittering thoughts,
  A sparkling ferment in life's sunlit mire?
  Wilt thou claim immortality, O heArt,
  Crying against the eternal witnesses
  My Force is Nature that creates and slays
  The heArts that hope, the limbs that long to live.
  It wears no living face, it has no name,
  No gaze, no heArt that throbs; it asks no second
  To aid its being or to share its joys.
  "Know also. Knowing, thou shalt cease to love
  And cease to will, delivered from thy heArt.
  I know that every being is myself,
  In every heArt is hidden the myriad One.
  Dowered with a mind and heArt to conquer thee."
  In the eternity of his ruthless will
  Through the long fading night by her compelled,
  Gliding half-seen on their uneArthly path,
  Phantasmal in the dimness moved the three.

10.01_-_The_Dream_Twilight_of_the_Ideal, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Although Death walks beside us on Life's road,
  A dim bystander at the body's stArt
  And a last judgment on man's futile works,
  Here in this seat of Darkness mute and lone,
  In the heArt of everlasting Nothingness
  Light conquered now even by that feeble beam:
  A golden fire came in and burned Night's heArt;
  Her dusky mindlessness began to dream;
  Assailed in the sovereign emptiness of its reign
  The intolerant Darkness paled and drew apArt
  Till only a few black remnants stained that Ray.
  Defending its ground of tortured mystery,
  It trailed its coils through the dead mArtyred air
  And curving fled down a grey slope of Time.
  Sprung from a limitless moment of desire
  That once had lodged in some abysmal heArt.
  Vague fields were there, vague pastures gleamed, vague trees,
  Vague scenes dim-heArted in a drifting haze;
  Vague cattle white roamed glimmering through the mist;
  Forms subtly elusive and half-luminous powers
  Wishing no goal for their uneArthly course
  Strayed happily through vague ideal lands,
  And all renewed unendingly its charm
  Alluring ever the expectant heArt
  Like music that one always waits to hear,
  An adoration reigned in the yearning heArt,
  A spirit of purity, an elusive presence
  Much sweeter seemed than any rapture known
  EArth or all-conquering heaven can ever give.
  Heaven ever young and eArth too firm and old
  Delay the heArt by immobility:
  Their raptures of creation last too long,
  As if a music old yet ever new,
  Moving suggestions on her heArt-strings dwelt,
  Thoughts that no habitation found, yet clung
  His dark contrast edging ideal sight
  Deepened unuttered meanings to the heArt;
  Pain grew a trembling undertone of bliss

10.02_-_The_Gospel_of_Death_and_Vanity_of_the_Ideal, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  This is the stuff from which the ideal is formed:
  Its builder is thought, its base the heArt's desire,
  But nothing real answers to their call.
  The ideal dwells not in heaven, nor on the eArth,
  A bright delirium of man's ardour of hope
  It crouches under a bush in splendid flower
  To seize a heArt and body for its food:
  This beast thou dreamst immortal and a god.
  To lend eternity to perishing things,
  And trickst the fragile movements of thy heArt
  With thy spirit's feint of immortality.
  A sovereign of its own brilliant void,
  Unwillingly it descends to eArthly air
  To inhabit a white temple in man's heArt:
  In his heArt it shines rejected by his life.
  Its light stirs man the thinker to create
  An eArthly semblance of diviner things.
  Yet insufficient is the bright pretence
  To screen their indigent and eArthy make:
  EArth only is there and not some heavenly source.
  For truth shines far from the falsehoods of the world;
  How can the heavens come down to unhappy eArth
  Or the eternal lodge in drifting time?
  How shall the Ideal tread eArth's dolorous soil
  Where life is only a labour and a hope,
  EArth lies unchanged beneath the circling sun;
  She loves her fall and no omnipotence
  High priestess in thy holy fancy's shrine
  Who with a magic ritual in eArth's house
  Worshippest ideal and eternal love,
  A rose of dream-splendour petalling thy mind,
  A great red rapture and torture of thy heArt.
  But only a fine sunlit patch of eArth
  The marvellous aspect took of heaven's outburst;
  The snake is there and the worm in the heArt of the rose.
  Love cannot live by heavenly food alone,
  Only on sap of eArth can it survive.
  For thy passion was a sensual want refined,
  A hunger of the body and the heArt;
  Thy want can tire and cease or turn elsewhere.
  Separate, or thy unsatisfied will to others
  DepArt when first love's joy lies stripped and slain:
  A dull indifference replaces fire
  Call him not back to the treacheries of eArth
  And the poor petty life of animal Man.
  And thou, go back alone to thy frail world:
  Chastise thy heArt with knowledge, unhood to see,
  Thy nature raised into clear living heights,
  Thou too shalt know, thy heArt no anchor swinging,
  Thy cradled soul moored in eternal seas.
  My love is not a hunger of the heArt,
  My love is not a craving of the flesh;
  For only one heArt beats within my breast
  And one god sits there throned. Advance, O Death,
  I cherish God the Fire, not God the Dream."
  But Death once more inflicted on her heArt
  The majesty of his calm and dreadful voice:
  Thou sendest eagle-poised to meet the sun
  Words winged with the red splendour of thy heArt.
  But knowledge dwells not in the passionate heArt;
  The heArt's words fall back unheard from Wisdom's throne.
  Vain is thy longing to build heaven on eArth.
  Artificer of Ideal and Idea,
  Mind, child of Matter in the womb of Life,
  But Mind, a glorious traveller in the sky,
  Walks lamely on the eArth with footsteps slow;
  Hardly he can mould the life's rebellious stuff,
  Carved out of being to prop the works of Time,
  Matter on the firm eArth sits strong and sure.
  It perishes with the plant on which it grows,
  For from eArth's sap it draws its heavenly hue:
  Thy thoughts are gleams that pass on Matter's verge,
  Its figures are snares that trap and prison the sense;
  The beginningless Void was its Artificer:
  Nothing is there but aspects limned by Chance
  Designing my unwilled, unerring plan,
  Creating with a calm insentient heArt.
  Marshalled the platoons of the invisible dance;
  I formed eArth's beauty out of atom and gas,
  And built from chemic plasm the living man.
  The impersonal Vast throbbed back to man's desire,
  A trouble rocked the great world's blind still heArt
  And Nature lost her wide immortal calm.
  Or if a half-Truth is playing with the eArth
  Throwing its light on a dark shadowy ground,
  A brilliant procuress of Nescience,
  And human love a posturer on eArth-stage
  Who imitates with verve a faery dance.
  EArth's human wisdom is no great-browed power,
  And love no gleaming angel from the skies;
  If they aspire beyond eArth's dullard air,
  Arriving sunwards with frail waxen wings,
  How high could reach that forced unnatural flight?
  But not on eArth can divine wisdom reign
  And not on eArth can divine love be found;
  Heaven-born, only in heaven can they live;
  Nay, is not all thou Art and doest a dream?
  Thy mind and life are tricks of Matter's force.
  If thy life runs a swift and glorious stream,
  This is the illusion of thy mortal heArt
  Dazzled by a ray of happiness or light.
  How shall the Ideal's unsubstantial hues
  Be painted stiff on eArth's vermilion blur,
  A dream within a dream come doubly true?
  Thy human imperfection it must share:
  Its forms in Nature disappoint the heArt,
  And never shall it find its heavenly shape
  O eArthly creature with thy dream of heaven,
  Obey, resigned and still, the eArthly law.
  There shall approach silencing thy passionate heArt
  My long calm night of everlasting sleep:

10.03_-_The_Debate_of_Love_and_Death, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  A traveller new-discovering himself,
  One made of Matter's world his stArting-point,
  He made of Nothingness his living-room
  A senseless substance quivered into sense,
  The world's heArt commenced to beat, its eyes to see,
  In the crowded dumb vibrations of a brain
  A scripture written out in cryptic signs,
  An occult document of the All-Wonderful's Art.
  Through this wrestle and wrangle of the extremes of Power
  EArth's million roads struggled towards deity.
  A crooked maze they made of thinking mind,
  They suffered a metamorphosis of the heArt,
  Admitting bacchant revellers from the Night
  On the highways, in the gardens of the world
  They wallowed oblivious of their divine pArts,
  As drunkards of a dire Circean wine
  Even wisdom, hewer of the roads of God,
  Is a pArtner in the deep disastrous game:
  Our mortal vision peers with ignorant eyes;
  It has no gaze on the deep heArt of things.
  A sceptic facing Light with adamant No
  Or chilling the heArt with dry ironic smile,
  A cynic stamping out the god in man;
  It is a shining warrior in the mind,
  An eagle of dreams in the divining heArt,
  An armour in the fight, a bow of God.
  Enormous djinns who serve a dwarf's small needs,
  Exposes the sealed minutiae of her Art
  And conquers her by her own captive force.
  Above the planes that climb from nescient eArth,
  A hand is lifted towards the Invisible's realm,
  It hears the Word to which our heArts were deaf,
  It sees through the blaze in which our thoughts grew blind;
  In eArth's anomalous and magic field
  Carried in its aimless journey by the sun
  Amid high meditating heads of hills,
  On the bosom of voluptuous rain-kissed eArth
  And by the sapphire tumblings of the sea.
  EArth still has kept her early charm and grace,
  The grandeur and the beauty still are hers,
  She comes to our heArts and bodies and our lives
  Wearing a hard and cruel mask of pain.
  Eternity sacrificed for a moment's bliss:
  Yet for joy and not for sorrow eArth was made
  And not as a dream in endless suffering Time.
  Deep like a sapphire heaven our spirits breathe;
  Our heArts and bodies feel its obscure call,
  Our senses grope for it and touch and lose.
  Even in this labour and dolour of Ignorance,
  On the hard perilous ground of difficult eArth,
  In spite of death and evil circumstance
  On eArth it lingers drinking its deep fill,
  Through the symbol of her pleasure and her pain,
  In his petty passions and joys it finds a taste,
  A taste in tears and torture of broken heArts,
  In the crown of gold and in the crown of thorns,
  Life brings into the eArthly creature's days
  A tongue of glory from a brighter sphere:
  It deepens in his musings and his Art,
  It leaps at the splendour of some perfect word,
  Angel and demon brides his chamber share,
  Possessors or competitors for life's heArt.
  Cast on some neutral background of the gods:
  The Artist's skill he admires who planned it all.
  But not for ever endures this danger game:
  Beyond the eArth, but meant for delivered eArth,
  Wisdom and joy prepare their perfect crown;
  Then leaving to its grief the human heArt,
  Abandoning speech and the name-determined realms,
  All our eArth stArts from mud and ends in sky,
  And Love that was once an animal's desire,
  Then a sweet madness in the rapturous heArt,
  An ardent comradeship in the happy mind,
  A lonely soul passions for the Alone,
  The heArt that loved man thrills to the love of God,
  A body is his chamber and his shrine.
  It must change its human ways to ways divine,
  Yet keep its sovereignty of eArthly bliss.
  O Death, not for my heArt's sweet poignancy
  Nor for my happy body's bliss alone
  To dwell under death's shadow they have come
  Tempting God's light to eArth for the ignorant race,
  His love to fill the hollow in men's heArts,
  His bliss to heal the unhappiness of the world.
  Love must not cease to live upon the eArth;
  For Love is the bright link twixt eArth and heaven,
  Love is the far Transcendent's angel here;
  A fine raiment for thy body's nude desires
  And thy heArt's clutching greedy passion clothe?
  Daub not the web of life with magic hues:
  For how in the soiled heArt of man could dwell
  The immaculate grandeur of thy dream-built God,
  I am the thinking instrument of his power,
  I incarnate Wisdom in an eArthly breast,
  I am his conquering and unslayable will.
  But Savitri replied to mighty Death:
  "My heArt is wiser than the Reason's thoughts,
  My heArt is stronger than thy bonds, O Death.
  It sees and feels the one HeArt beat in all,
  It feels the high Transcendent's sunlike hands,
  My heArt's strength can carry the grief of the universe
  And never falter from its luminous track,
  The calm that broods in the deep Infinite."
  He said, "Art thou indeed so strong, O heArt,
  O soul, so free? And canst thou gather then
  "So prove thy absolute force to the wise gods,
  By choosing eArthly joy! For self demand
  And yet from self and its gross masks live free.
  Then will I give thee all thy soul desires,
  All the brief joys eArth keeps for mortal heArts.
  "If the eyes of Darkness can look straight at Truth,
  Look in my heArt and, knowing what I am,
  Give what thou wilt or what thou must, O Death.
  Whatever once the living Satyavan
  Desired in his heArt for Savitri.
  Bright noons I give thee and unwounded dawns,
  Daughters of thy own shape in heArt and mind,
  Fair hero sons and sweetness undisturbed
  Love shall bind by thee many gathered heArts.
  Return, O child, to thy forsaken eArth."
  But Savitri replied, "Thy gifts resist.
  EArth cannot flower if lonely I return."
  Then Death sent forth once more his angry cry,
  As chides a lion his escaping prey:
  "What knowst thou of eArth's rich and changing life
  Who thinkst that one man dead all joy must cease?
  Hope not to be unhappy till the end:
  For grief dies soon in the tired human heArt;
  Soon other guests the empty chambers fill.
  Soon shalt thou find appeased that other men
  On lavish eArth have beauty, strength and truth,
  And when thou hast half forgotten, one of these
  Shall wind himself around thy heArt that needs
  Some human answering heArt against thy breast;
  Such is the life eArth's travail has conceived,
  A constant stream that never is the same."
  Thou mockst the mind and body's faltering search
  For what the heArt holds in a prophet hour
  And the immortal spirit shall make its own.
  Mine is a heArt that worshipped, though forsaken,
  The image of the god its love adored;
  Life only was my blind attempt to love:
  EArth saw my struggle, heaven my victory;
  All shall be seized, transcended; there shall kiss
  Imperishable, a tongue of sacrifice,
  It flamed unquenched upon the central heArth
  Where burns for the high houselord and his mate

10.04_-_The_Dream_Twilight_of_the_Earthly_Real, #Savitri, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  object:10.04 - The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  THERE came a slope that slowly downward sank;
  The dim-heArt marvel of the ideal was lost;
  Its crowding wonder of bright delicate dreams
  A straining taut and dire besieged her heArt;
  Heavy her sense grew with a dangerous load,
  Phantoms of human thought and baffled hopes,
  The shapes of Nature and the Arts of man,
  Philosophies and disciplines and laws,
  On mountain summits or by river banks
  Or from the desolate heArt of forest glades
  Seeking heaven's rest or the spirit's worldless peace,
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  Its solid outlines of creative dream
  Inspiring the great concrete tasks of eArth.
  In vain his heArt lifts up its yearning prayer,
  Peopling with brilliant Gods the formless Void;
  ApArt amid the mortal multitudes,
  He calls the Godhead incommunicable
  Or he finds his copy in the impArtial All;
  He impArts to the Immobile his own will,
  Attributes to the Eternal wrath and love
  Philosophies that strip all problems bare
  But nothing ever have solved since eArth began,
  And sciences omnipotent in vain
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  Mind is a tissue woven of light and shade
  Where right and wrong have sewn their mingled pArts;
  Or Mind is Nature's marriage of convenance
  Think not to plant on eArth the living Truth
  Or make of Matter's world the home of God;
  On what shalt thou then build thy happy world?
  Cast off thy life and mind, then Art thou Self,
  An all-seeing omnipresence stark, alone.
  All things he sees with calm indifferent gaze,
  He has doomed all heArts to sorrow and desire,
  He has bound all life with his implacable laws;
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  Or lodge her sweet unbroken ecstasy
  In heArts which eArthly sorrow can assail
  And bodies careless Death can slay at will?
  If heavens there are whose gates are shut to grief,
  There seek the joy thou couldst not find on eArth;
  Or in the imperishable hemisphere
  If thou Art Spirit and Nature is thy robe,
  Cast off thy garb and be thy naked self
  Make Knowledge a catch of the snare of Ignorance
  And the Word a dArt to slay my living soul?
  Offer, O King, thy boons to tired spirits
  And heArts that could not bear the wounds of Time,
  Let those who were tied to body and to mind,
  Surely thy boons are great since thou Art He!
  But how shall I seek rest in endless peace
  Her will tempered in the blaze of Wisdom's sun
  And the flaming silence of her heArt of love?
  The world is a spiritual paradox
  Already the life is the Immortal's force,
  The house grows of the householder pArt and one.
  How sayst thou Truth can never light the human mind
  And Bliss can never invade the mortal's heArt
  Or God descend into the world he made?
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  I have pursued him in his eArthly form.
  A lonely freedom cannot satisfy
  A heArt that has grown one with every heArt:
  I am a deputy of the aspiring world,
  Which knowledge seems to increase and growth to enlarge,
  The eArth-mind sinks and it despairs and looks
  Old, weary and discouraged on its work.
  But the violent and passionate heArt forbids.
  Are these great spirits who have too much love,
  And they who formed like thee, for both Art thou,
  Have come into the narrow bounds of life
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  To watch the revolutions of the stars:
  Motionlessly moving with the might of eArth,
  They see the ages pass and are the same.
  The hurrying aeons would stumble on too swift
  If strength from heaven surprised the imperfect eArth
  And veilless knowledge smote these unfit souls.
  Mighty Art thou with the dread goddess filled,
  To whom thou criedst at dawn in the dim woods.
  What were eArth's ages if the grey restraint
  Were never broken and glories sprang not forth
  By divine words and human gods revealed?
  Impose not upon sentient minds and heArts
  The dull fixity that binds inanimate things.
  "Why should the noble and immortal will
  Stoop to the petty works of transient eArth,
  Freedom forgotten and the Eternal's path?
  And battle and bear agony of wounds
  To grasp the trivial joys that eArth can guard
  In her small treasure-chest of passing things?
  Child, hast thou trodden the gods beneath thy feet
  Only to win poor shreds of eArthly life
  For him thou lov'st cancelling the grand release,
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  EArth was his difficult matter, eArth the glory
  Gave of the problem and the race and strife.
  Choosing his tyranny, crushed in his embrace?
  To seize him better with her boundless heArt
  She accepts the limiting circle of his arms,
  Uttered in hidden conclaves of the gods,
  Thy heArt's ephemeral passion cannot break
  The iron rampArt of accomplished things
  With which the great Gods fence their camp in Space.
  Whoever thou Art behind thy human mask,
  Even if thou Art the Mother of the worlds
  And pegst thy claim upon the realms of Chance,
  For where is Truth and when was her footfall heard
  Amid the endless clamour of Time's mArt
  And which is her voice amid the thousand cries
  Sanctions and consecrates his nature's choice,
  The heArt's wish donning knowledge as its robe,
  The cherished idea elect among the elect,
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  Yet neither beast nor deity but man,
  But man tied to the kind eArth's labour strives to exceed
  Climbing the stairs of God to higher things.
  Truth has no home in eArth's irrational breast:
  Yet without reason life is a tangle of dreams,
  Or if she dwells within thy mortal heArt,
  Show me the body of the living Truth
  No power of eArth cancel the thing once done,
  No joy of the heArt can last surviving death,
  No bliss persuade the past to live again.
  "O Death, thou too Art God and yet not He,
  But only his own black shadow on his path
  Of God unconscious thou Art the dark head,
  Of his Ignorance thou Art the impenitent sign,
  Of its vast tenebrous womb the natural child,
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  An aimless labour with but scanty sense,
  To eyes that see a pArt and miss the whole;
  The surface men scan, the depths refuse their search:
  It rules the world from its sleeping senseless Void;
  Dreaming it throws out mind and heArt and soul
  To labour crippled, bound, on the hard eArth;
  A broken whole it works through scattered points;
  It stArts from the mute mass in countless jets,
  It fashions a being out of brain and nerve,
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  It follows aims in an ignorant aimless world,
  It lends significance to eArth's meaningless life.
  To join the heights and depths of being in light,
  In the heArt's cave speaks secretly with God.
  A cosmic Thought spreads out its vastitudes;
  Its smallest pArts are here philosophies
  Challenging with their detailed immensity,
  Thought trails behind it its long comet tail;
  The heArt glows, an illuminate and seer,
  And sense is kindled into identity.
  Rummages the sky-recesses of the brain,
  Lights up the occult chambers of the heArt;
  Its spear-point ictus of discovery
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  The line that pArts and joins the hemispheres
  Closes in on the labour of the Gods
  Till Truth draws back the shade that it has cast,
  The Love our heArts call down to heal all strife,
  The Bliss for which the world's derelict sorrows yearn:
  Thence comes the glory sometimes seen on eArth,
  The visits of Godhead to the human soul,
  There in a body made of spirit stuff,
  The heArth-stone of the everliving Fire,
  Action translates the movements of the soul,
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  The All-Beautiful is a miracle in each shape;
  The All-Blissful smites with rapture the heArt's throbs,
  A pure celestial joy is the use of sense.
  If our souls could see and love and clasp God's Truth,
  Its infinite radiance would seize our heArts,
  Our being in God's image be remade
  And eArthly life become the life divine."
  Then Death the last time answered Savitri:
  Leaving her unapproachable glory and bliss,
  Wasting her splendour on pale eArthly air?
  Is thine that strength, O beauty of mortal limbs,
  O soul who flutterest to escape my net?
  Who then Art thou hiding in human guise?
  Thy voice carries the sound of infinity,
  An imperishable Force touching brute things
  Transform eArth's death into immortal life.
  The prostrate eArth perhaps shall lift her gaze
  And feel near her the secret body of God
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  A curve of the calm hauteur of far heaven
  Descending into eArth's humility,
  Her forehead's span vaulted the Omniscient's gaze,
  Where hides his light from the pursuing gods,
  It glided into the lotus of her heArt
  And woke in it the Force that alters Fate.
  Joined Matter's dumbness to the Spirit's hush
  And filled eArth's acts with the Spirit's silent power.
  Or the low calm utterance of infinity
  When it speaks to the silence in the heArt of sleep.
  Thou Art my shadow and my instrument.
  Thou Art his spur to greatness in his works,
  The whip to his yearning for eternal bliss,
  One day man too shall know thy fathomless heArt
  Of silence and the brooding peace of Night
  CANTO IV: The Dream Twilight of the EArthly Real
  Light like a burning tongue licked up his thoughts,
  Light was a luminous torture in his heArt,
  Light coursed, a splendid agony, through his nerves;

1.00_-_Gospel, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  About his parents Sri Ramakrishna once said: "My mother was the personification of rectitude and gentleness. She did not know much about the ways of the world; innocent of the Art of concealment, she would say what was in her mind. People loved her for open-heArtedness. My father, an orthodox brhmin, never accepted gifts from the udrs. He spent much of his time in worship and meditation, and in repeating God's name and chanting His glories. Whenever in his daily prayers he invoked the Goddess Gyatri, his chest flushed and tears rolled down his cheeks. He spent his leisure hours making garlands for the Family Deity, Raghuvir."
  Ten years after his coming to Kmrpukur, Khudirm made a pilgrimage on foot to Rmeswar, at the southern extremity of India. Two years later was born his second son, whom he named Rmewar. Again in 1835, at the age of sixty, he made a pilgrimage, this time to Gay. Here, from ancient times, Hindus have come from the four corners of India to discharge their duties to their depArted ancestors by offering them food and drink at the sacred footprint of the Lord Vishnu. At this holy place Khudirm had a dream in which the Lord Vishnu promised to be born as his son. And Chandr Devi, too, in front of the iva temple at Kmrpukur, had a vision indicating the birth of a divine child.
  Gaddhar grew up into a healthy and restless boy, full of fun and sweet mischief. He was intelligent and precocious and endowed with a prodigious memory. On his father's lap he learnt by heArt the names of his ancestors and the hymns to the gods and goddesses, and at the village school he was taught to read and write. But his greatest delight was to listen to recitations of stories from Hindu mythology and the epics. These he would afterwards recount from memory, to the great joy of the villagers. Painting he enjoyed; the Art of moulding images of the gods and goddesses he learnt from the potters. But arithmetic was his great aversion.
  Gaddhar was seven years old when his father died. This incident profoundly affected him. For the first time the boy realized that life on eArth was impermanent. Unobserved by others, he began to slip into the mango orchard or into one of the cremation grounds, and he spent hours absorbed in his own thoughts. He also became more helpful to his mother in the discharge of her household duties. He gave more attention to reading and hearing the religious stories recorded in the Purns. And he became interested in the wandering monks and pious pilgrims who would stop at Kmrpukur on their way to Puri. These holy men, the custodians of India's spiritual heritage and the living witnesses of the ideal of renunciation of the world and all-absorbing love of God, entertained the little boy with stories from the Hindu epics, stories of saints and prophets, and also stories of their own adventures. He, on his pArt, fetched their water and fuel and served them in various ways. Meanwhile, he was observing their meditation and worship.
  Gaddhar was now permitted to worship Raghuvir. Thus began his first training in meditation. He so gave his heArt and soul to the worship that the stone image very soon appeared to him as the living Lord of the Universe. His tendency to lose himself in contemplation was first noticed at this time. Behind his boyish light-heArtedness was seen a deepening of his spiritual nature.
  About this time, on the ivArtri night, consecrated to the worship of iva, a dramatic performance was arranged. The principal actor, who was to play the pArt of iva, suddenly fell ill, and Gaddhar was persuaded to act in his place. While friends were dressing him for the role of iva - smearing his body with ashes, matting his locks, placing a trident in his hand and a string of rudrkaa beads around his neck - the boy appeared to become absent-minded. He approached the stage with slow and measured step, supported by his friends. He looked the living image of iva. The audience loudly applauded what it took to be his skill as an actor, but it was soon discovered that he was really lost in meditation. His countenance was radiant and tears flowed from his eyes. He was lost to the outer world. The effect of this scene on the audience was tremendous.
  Gaddhar himself now organized a dramatic company with his young friends. The stage was set in the mango orchard. The themes were selected from the stories of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Gaddhar knew by heArt almost all the roles, having heard them from professional actors. His favourite theme was the Vrindvan episode of Krishna's life, depicting those exquisite love-stories of Krishna and the milkmaids and the cowherd boys. Gaddhar would play the pArts of Rdh or Krishna and would often lose himself in the character he was portraying. His natural feminine grace heightened the dramatic effect. The mango orchard would ring with the loud kirtan of the boys. Lost in song and merry-making, Gaddhar became indifferent to the routine of school.
  Gaddhar was on the threshold of youth. He had become the pet of the women of the village. They loved to hear him talk, sing, or recite from the holy books. They enjoyed his knack of imitating voices. Their woman's instinct recognized the innate purity and guilelessness of this boy of clear skin, flowing hair, beaming eyes, smiling face, and inexhaustible fun. The pious elderly women looked upon him as Gopl, the Baby Krishna, and the younger ones saw in him the youthful Krishna of Vrindvan. He himself so idealised the love of the gopis for Krishna that he sometimes yearned to be born as a woman, if he must be born again, in order to be able to love Sri Krishna with all his heArt and soul.
  At the age of sixteen Gaddhar was summoned to Calcutta by his elder brother Rmkumr, who wished assistance in his priestly duties. Rmkumr had opened a Sanskrit academy to supplement his income, and it was his intention gradually to turn his younger brother's mind to education. Gaddhar applied himself heArt and soul to his new duty as family priest to a number of Calcutta families. His worship was very different from that of the professional priests. He spent hours decorating the images and singing hymns and devotional songs; he performed with love the other duties of his office. People were impressed with his ardour. But to his studies he paid scant attention.
  He gently admonished Gaddhar and asked him to pay more attention to his studies. But the boy replied spiritedly: "Brother, what shall I do with a mere bread-winning education? I would rather acquire that wisdom which will illumine my heArt and give me satisfaction for ever."
  The anguish of the inner soul of India found expression through these passionate words of the young Gaddhar. For what did his unsophisticated eyes see around him in Calcutta, at that time the metropolis of India and the centre of modern culture and learning? Greed and lust held sway in the higher levels of society, and the occasional religious practices were merely outer forms from which the soul had long ago depArted.
  In 1757 English traders laid the foundation of British rule in India. Gradually the Government was systematized and lawlessness suppressed. The Hindus were much impressed by the military power and political acumen of the new rulers. In the wake of the merchants came the English educators, and social reformers, and Christian missionaries - all bearing a culture completely alien to the Hindu mind. In different pArts of the country educational institutions were set up and Christian churches established.
  At that time there lived in Calcutta a rich widow named Rni Rsmani, belonging to the udr caste, and known far and wide not only for her business ability, courage, and intelligence, but also for her largeness of heArt, piety, and devotion to God. She was assisted in the management of her vast property by her son-in-law Mathur Mohan.
  The temple garden stands directly on the east bank of the Ganges. The northern section of the land and a portion to the east contain an orchard, flower gardens, and two small reservoirs. The southern section is paved with brick and mortar. The visitor arriving by boat ascends the steps of an imposing bathing-Ght, which leads to the Chndni, a roofed terrace, on either side of which stand in a row six temples of iva. East of the terrace and the iva temples is a large court, paved, rectangular in shape, and running north and south. Two temples stand in the centre of this court, the larger one, to the south and facing south, being dedicated to Kli, and the smaller one, facing the Ganges, to Radhknta, that is, Krishna, the Consort of Rdh. Nine domes with spires surmount the temple of Kli, and before it stands the spacious Natmandir, or music hall, the terrace of which is supported by stately pillars. At the northwest and southwest corners of the temple compound are two Nahabats, or music towers, from which music flows at different times of day, especially at sunup, noon, and sundown, when the worship is performed in the temples. Three sides of the paved courtyard -all except the west - are lined with rooms set apArt for kitchens, store-rooms, dining-rooms, and quArters for the temple staff and guests. The chamber in the northwest angle, just beyond the last of the iva temples, is of special interest to us; for here Sri Ramakrishna was to spend a considerable pArt of his life. To the west of this chamber is a semicircular porch overlooking the river. In front of the porch runs a footpath, north and south, and beyond the path is a large garden and, below the garden, the Ganges. The orchard to the north of the buildings contains the Panchavati, the banyan, and the bel-tree, associated with Sri Ramakrishna's spiritual practices. Outside and to the north of the temple compound proper is the Kuthi, or bungalow, used by members of Rni Rsmani's family visiting the garden. And north of the temple garden, separated from it by a high wall, is a powder-magazine belonging to the British Government.
  In the twelve iva temples are installed the emblems of the Great God of renunciation in His various aspects, worshipped daily with proper rites. iva requires few Articles of worship. White flowers and bel-leaves and a little Ganges water offered with devotion are enough to satisfy the benign Deity and win from Him the boon of liberation.
  The whole symbolic world is represented in the temple garden - the Trinity of the Nature Mother (Kli), the Absolute (iva), and Love (Radhknta), the Arch spanning heaven and eArth. The terrific Goddess of the Tantra, the soul-enthralling Flute-Player of the Bhgavata, and the Self-absorbed Absolute of the Vedas live together, creating the greatest synthesis of religions. All aspects of Reality are represented there. But of this divine household, Kli is the pivot, the sovereign Mistress. She is Prakriti, the Procreatrix, Nature, the Destroyer, the Creator. Nay, She is something greater and deeper still for those who have eyes to see. She is the Universal Mother, "my Mother" as Ramakrishna would say, the All-powerful, who reveals Herself to Her children under different aspects and Divine Incarnations, the Visible God, who leads the elect to the Invisible Reality; and if it so pleases Her, She takes away the last trace of ego from created beings and merges it in the consciousness of the Absolute, the undifferentiated God. Through Her grace "the finite ego loses itself in the illimitable Ego-tman-Brahman".
  Within a very short time Sri Ramakrishna attracted the notice of Mathur Bbu, who was impressed by the young man's religious fervour and wanted him to pArticipate in the worship in the Kli temple. But Sri Ramakrishna loved his freedom and was indifferent to any worldly career. The profession of the priesthood in a temple founded by a rich woman did not appeal to his mind. Further, he hesitated to take upon himself the responsibility for the ornaments and jewellery of the temple. Mathur had to wait for a suitable occasion.
  Therefore the Deity is bathed and clothed and decked with ornaments. He is fed and put to sleep. He is propitiated with hymns, songs, and prayers. And there are appropriate rites connected with all these functions. For instance, to secure for himself external purity, the priest bathes himself in holy water and puts on a holy cloth. He purifies the mind and the sense organs by appropriate meditations. He fortifies the place of worship against evil forces by drawing around it circles of fire and water. He awakens the different spiritual centres of the body and invokes the Supreme Spirit in his heArt. Then he transfers the Supreme Spirit to the image before him and worships the image, regarding it no longer as clay or stone, but as the embodiment of Spirit, throbbing with Life and Consciousness. After the worship the Supreme Spirit is recalled from the image to Its true sanctuary, the heArt of the priest. The real devotee knows the absurdity of worshipping the Transcendental Reality with material Articles - clothing That which pervades the whole universe and the beyond, putting on a pedestal That which cannot be limited by space, feeding That which is disembodied and incorporeal, singing before That whose glory the music of the spheres tries vainly to proclaim. But through these rites the devotee aspires to go ultimately beyond rites and rituals, forms and names, words and praise, and to realize God as the All-pervading Consciousness.
  In 1856 Rmkumr breathed his last. Sri Ramakrishna had already witnessed more than one death in the family. He had come to realize how impermanent is life on eArth. The more he was convinced of the transitory nature of worldly things, the more eager he became to realize God, the Fountain of Immortality.
  And, indeed, he soon discovered what a strange Goddess he had chosen to serve. He became gradually enmeshed in the web of Her all-pervading presence. To the ignorant She is to be sure, the image of destruction: but he found in Her the benign, all-loving Mother. Her neck is encircled with a garland of heads, and Her waist with a girdle of human arms and two of Her hands hold weapons of death, and Her eyes dArt a glance of fire; but, strangely enough, Ramakrishna felt in Her breath the soothing touch of tender love and saw in Her the Seed of Immortality. She stands on the bosom of Her Consort, iva; it is because She is the akti, the Power, inseparable from the Absolute. She is surrounded by jackals and other unholy creatures, the denizens of the cremation ground.
  As his love for God deepened, he began either to forget or to drop the formalities of worship. Sitting before the image, he would spend hours singing the devotional songs of great devotees of the Mother, such as Kamalknta and Rmprasd. Those rhapsodical songs, describing the direct vision of God, only intensified Sri Ramakrishna's longing. He felt the pangs of a child separated from its mother. Sometimes, in agony, he would rub his face against the ground and weep so bitterly that people, thinking he had lost his eArthly mother, would sympathize with him in his grief. Sometimes, in moments of scepticism, he would cry: "Art Thou true, Mother, or is it all fiction - mere poetry without any reality? If Thou dost exist, why do I not see Thee? Is religion a mere fantasy and Art Thou only a figment of man's imagination?" Sometimes he would sit on the prayer carpet for two hours like an inert object. He began to behave in an abnormal manner, most of the time unconscious of the world. He almost gave up food; and sleep left him altogether.
  But he did not have to wait very long. He has thus described his first vision of the Mother: "I felt as if my heArt were being squeezed like a wet towel. I was overpowered with a great restlessness and a fear that it might not be my lot to realize Her in this life.
  Suddenly my glance fell on the sword that was kept in the Mother's temple. I determined to put an end to my life. When I jumped up like a madman and seized it, suddenly the blessed Mother revealed Herself. The buildings with their different pArts, the temple, and everything else vanished from my sight, leaving no trace whatsoever, and in their stead I saw a limitless, infinite, effulgent Ocean of Consciousness. As far as the eye could see, the shining billows were madly rushing at me from all sides with a terrific noise, to swallow me up! I was panting for breath. I was caught in the rush and collapsed, unconscious. What was happening in the outside world I did not know; but within me there was a steady flow of undiluted bliss, altogether new, and I felt the presence of the Divine Mother." On his lips when he regained consciousness of the world was the word "Mother".
  Naturally the temple officials took him for an insane person. His worldly well-wishers brought him to skilled physicians; but no medicine could cure his malady. Many a time he doubted his sanity himself. For he had been sailing across an unchArted sea, with no eArthly guide to direct him. His only haven of security was the Divine Mother Herself. To Her he would pray: "I do not know what these things are. I am ignorant of mantras and the scriptures. Teach me, Mother, how to realize Thee. Who else can help me? Art Thou not my only refuge and guide?" And the sustaining presence of the Mother never failed him in his distress or doubt. Even those who criticized his conduct were greatly impressed with his purity, guilelessness, truthfulness, integrity, and holiness. They felt an uplifting influence in his presence.
  Mathur and Rni Rsmani began to ascribe the mental ailment of Sri Ramakrishna in pArt, at least, to his observance of rigid continence. Thinking that a natural life would relax the tension of his nerves, they engineered a plan with two women of ill fame. But as soon as the women entered his room, Sri Ramakrishna beheld in them the manifestation of the Divine Mother of the Universe and went into Samdhi uttering Her name.
  He loved to pArticipate in hair-splitting theological discussions and, by the measure of his own erudition, he proceeded to gauge Sri Ramakrishna. An orthodox brhmin, he thoroughly disapproved of his cousin's unorthodox actions, but he was not unimpressed by Sri Ramakrishna's purity of life, ecstatic love of God, and yearning for realization.
  One day Haladhri upset Sri Ramakrishna with the statement that God is incomprehensible to the human mind. Sri Ramakrishna has described the great moment of doubt when he wondered whether his visions had really misled him: "With sobs I prayed to the Mother, 'Canst Thou have the heArt to deceive me like this because I am a fool?' A stream of tears flowed from my eyes. Shortly afterwards I saw a volume of mist rising from the floor and filling the space before me. In the midst of it there appeared a face with flowing beard, calm, highly expressive, and fair. Fixing its gaze steadily upon me, it said solemnly, 'Remain in Bhva-mukha, on the threshold of relative consciousness.' This it repeated three times and then it gently disappeared in the mist, which itself dissolved. This vision reassured me."
  A garbled report of Sri Ramakrishna's failing health, indifference to worldly life, and various abnormal activities reached Kmrpukur and filled the heArt of his poor mother with anguish. At her repeated request he returned to his village for a change of air. But his boyhood friends did not interest him any more. A divine fever was consuming him.
  He spent a great pArt of the day and night in one of the cremation grounds, in meditation. The place reminded him of the impermanence of the human body, of human hopes and achievements. It also reminded him of Kli, the Goddess of destruction.
  But in a few months his health showed improvement, and he recovered to some extent his natural buoyancy of spirit. His happy mother was encouraged to think it might be a good time to arrange his marriage. The boy was now twenty-three years old. A wife would bring him back to eArth. And she was delighted when her son welcomed her suggestion. Perhaps he saw in it the finger of God.
  Hardly had he crossed the threshold of the Kli temple when he found himself again in the whirlwind. His madness reappeared tenfold. The same meditation and prayer, the same ecstatic moods, the same burning sensation, the same weeping, the same sleeplessness, the same indifference to the body and the outside world, the same divine delirium. He subjected himself to fresh disciplines in order to eradicate greed and lust, the two great impediments to spiritual progress. With a rupee in one hand and some eArth in the other, he would reflect on the comparative value of these two for the realization of God, and finding them equally worthless he would toss them, with equal indifference, into the Ganges. Women he regarded as the manifestations of the Divine Mother. Never even in a dream did he feel the impulses of lust. And to root out of his mind the idea of caste superiority, he cleaned a pariah's house with his long and neglected hair. When he would sit in meditation, birds would perch on his head and peck in his hair for grains of food. Snakes would crawl over his body, and neither would he aware of the other. Sleep left him altogether. Day and night, visions flitted before him.
  There came to Dakshinewar at this time a brhmin woman who was to play an important pArt in Sri Ramakrishna's spiritual unfoldment. Born in East Bengl, she was an adept in the Tntrik and Vaishnava methods of worship. She was slightly over fifty years of age, handsome, and garbed in the orange robe of a nun. Her sole possessions were a few books and two pieces of wearing-cloth.
  When, a few days later, Pundit Gauri arrived, another meeting was held, and he agreed with the view of the Brhmani and Vaishnavcharan. To Sri Ramakrishna's remark that Vaishnavcharan had declared him to be an Avatr, Gauri replied: "Is that all he has to say about you? Then he has said very little. I am fully convinced that you are that Mine of Spiritual Power, only a small fraction of which descends on eArth, from time to time, in the form of an Incarnation."
  Gauri said: "I feel it in my heArt and I have the scriptures on my side. I am ready to prove it to anyone who challenges me."
  Sri Ramakrishna was a learner all his life. He often used to quote a proverb to his disciples: "Friend, the more I live the more I learn." When the excitement created by the Brhmani's declaration was over, he set himself to the task of practising spiritual disciplines according to the traditional methods laid down in the Tantra and Vaishnava scriptures. Hitherto he had pursued his spiritual ideal according to the promptings of his own mind and heArt. Now he accepted the Brhmani as his guru and set foot on the traditional highways.
  The disciplines of Tantra are graded to suit aspirants of all degrees. Exercises are prescribed for people with "animal", "heroic", and "divine" outlooks. Certain of the rites require the presence of members of the opposite sex. Here the aspirant learns to look on woman as the embodiment of the Goddess Kli, the Mother of the Universe. The very basis of Tantra is the Motherhood of God and the glorification of woman. Every pArt of a woman's body is to be regarded as incarnate Divinity. But the rites are extremely dangerous. The help of a qualified guru is absolutely necessary. An unwary devotee may lose his foothold and fall into a pit of depravity.
  Vaishnavism is exclusively a religion of bhakti. Bhakti is intense love of God, attachment to Him alone; it is of the nature of bliss and bestows upon the lover immortality and liberation. God, according to Vaishnavism, cannot be realized through logic or reason; and, without bhakti, all penances, austerities, and rites are futile. Man cannot realize God by self-exertion alone. For the vision of God His grace is absolutely necessary, and this grace is felt by the pure of heArt. The mind is to be purified through bhakti. The pure mind then remains for ever immersed in the ecstasy of God-vision. It is the cultivation of this divine love that is the chief concern of the Vaishnava religion.
  There are three kinds of formal devotion: tmasic, rjasic, and sttvic. If a person, while showing devotion to God, is actuated by malevolence, arrogance, jealousy, or anger, then his devotion is tmasic, since it is influenced by tamas, the quality of inertia. If he worships God from a desire for fame or wealth, or from any other worldly ambition, then his devotion is rjasic, since it is influenced by rajas, the quality of activity. But if a person loves God without any thought of material gain, if he performs his duties to please God alone and maintains toward all created beings the attitude of friendship, then his devotion is called sttvic, since it is influenced by sattva, the quality of harmony. But the highest devotion transcends the three guns, or qualities, being a spontaneous, uninterrupted inclination of the mind toward God, the Inner Soul of all beings; and it wells up in the heArt of a true devotee as soon as he hears the name of God or mention of God's attributes. A devotee possessed of this love would not accept the happiness of heaven if it were offered him. His one desire is to love God under all conditions - in pleasure and pain, life and death, honour and dishonour, prosperity and adversity.
  There are two stages of bhakti. The first is known as Vaidhi-Bhakti, or love of God qualified by scriptural injunctions. For the devotees of this stage are prescribed regular and methodical worship, hymns, prayers, the repetition of God's name, and the chanting of His glories. This lower bhakti in course of time matures into Par-Bhakti, or supreme devotion, known also as Prema, the most intense form of divine love. Divine love is an end in itself. It exists potentially in all human heArts, but in the case of bound creatures it is misdirected to eArthly objects.
  To develop the devotee's love for God, Vaishnavism humanises God. God is to be regarded as the devotee's Parent, Master, Friend, Child, Husband, or SweetheArt, each succeeding relationship representing an intensification of love. These Bhvs, or attitudes toward God, are known as nta, Dsya, Sakhya, Vtsalya, and Madhur. The rishis of the Veds, Hanumn, the cowherd boys of Vrindvan, Rm's mother Kausalya, and Rdhika, Krishna's sweetheArt, exhibited, respectively, the most perfect examples of these forms. In the ascending scale the glories of God are gradually forgotten and the devotee realizes more and more the intimacy of divine communion. Finally he regards himself as the mistress of his Beloved, and no Artificial barrier remains to separate him from his Ideal. No social or moral obligation can bind to the eArth his soaring spirit. He experiences perfect union with the Godhead. Unlike the Vedantist, who strives to transcend all varieties of the subject-object relationship, a devotee of the Vaishnava path wishes to retain both his own individuality and the personality of God. To him God is not an intangible Absolute, but the Purushottama, the Supreme Person.
  While worshipping Ramll as the Divine Child, Sri Ramakrishna's heArt became filled with motherly tenderness, and he began to regard himself as a woman. His speech and gestures changed. He began to move freely with the ladies of Mathur's family, who now looked upon him as one of their own sex. During this time he worshipped the Divine Mother as Her companion or handmaid.
  Sri Ramakrishna now devoted himself to scaling the most inaccessible and dizzy heights of dualistic worship, namely, the complete union with Sri Krishna as the Beloved of the heArt. He regarded himself as one of the gopis of Vrindvan, mad with longing for her divine SweetheArt. At his request Mathur provided him with woman's dress and jewellery. In this love pursuit, food and drink were forgotten. Day and night he wept bitterly. The yearning turned into a mad frenzy; for the divine Krishna began to play with him the old tricks He had played with the gopis. He would tease and taunt, now and then revealing Himself, but always keeping at a distance. Sri Ramakrishna's anguish brought on a return of the old physical symptoms: the burning sensation, an oozing of blood through the pores, a loosening of the joints, and the stopping of physiological functions.
  The love of Rdh is the precursor of the resplendent vision of Sri Krishna, and Sri Ramakrishna soon experienced that vision. The enchanting form of Krishna appeared to him and merged in his person. He became Krishna; he totally forgot his own individuality and the world; he saw Krishna in himself and in the universe. Thus he attained to the fulfilment of the worship of the Personal God. He drank from the fountain of Immortal Bliss. The agony of his heArt vanished forever. He realized Amrita, Immortality, beyond the shadow of death.
  The Brhmani was the enthusiastic teacher and astonished beholder of Sri Ramakrishna in his spiritual progress. She became proud of the achievements of her unique pupil. But the pupil himself was not permitted to rest; his destiny beckoned him forward. His Divine Mother would allow him no respite till he had left behind the entire realm of duality with its visions, experiences, and ecstatic dreams. But for the new ascent the old tender guides would not suffice. The Brhmani, on whom he had depended for three years saw her son escape from her to follow the command of a teacher with masculine strength, a sterner mien, a gnarled physique, and a virile voice. The new guru was a wandering monk, the sturdy Totpuri, whom Sri Ramakrishna learnt to address affectionately as Nangta, the "Naked One", because of his total renunciation of all eArthly objects and attachments, including even a piece of wearing-cloth.
  is left behind with all its changes and modifications. The Real Man towers above the delusions of creation, preservation, and destruction. An avalanche of indescribable Bliss sweeps away all relative ideas of pain and pleasure, good and evil. There shines in the heArt the glory of the Eternal Brahman, Existence-Knowledge-Bliss Absolute. Knower, knowledge, and known are dissolved in the Ocean of one eternal Consciousness; love, lover, and beloved merge in the unbounded Sea of supreme Felicity; birth, growth, and death vanish in infinite Existence. All doubts and misgivings are quelled for ever; the oscillations of the mind are stopped; the momentum of past actions is exhausted.
  The teacher and the disciple repaired to the meditation room near by. Totpuri began to impArt to Sri Ramakrishna the great truths of Vednta. "Brahman", he said, "is the only Reality, ever pure, ever illumined, ever free, beyond the limits of time, space, and causation. Though apparently divided by names and forms through the inscrutable power of My, that enchantress who makes the impossible possible, Brahman is really One and undivided. When a seeker merges in the beatitude of Samdhi, he does not perceive time and space or name and form, the offspring of My. Whatever is within the domain of My is unreal. Give it up. Destroy the prison-house of name and form and rush out of it with the strength of a lion. Dive deep in search of the Self and realize It through Samdhi. You will find the world of name and form vanishing into void, and the puny ego dissolving in Brahman-Consciousness. You will realize your identity with Brahman, Existence-Knowledge-Bliss Absolute." Quoting the Upanishad, Totpuri said "That knowledge is shallow by which one sees or hears or knows another. What is shallow is worthless and can never give real felicity. But the Knowledge by which one does not see another or hear another or know another, which is beyond duality, is great, and through such Knowledge one attains the Infinite Bliss. How can the mind and senses grasp That which shines in the heArt of all as the Eternal Subject?"
  After the depArture of Totpuri, Sri Ramakrishna remained for six months in a state of absolute identity with Brahman. "For six months at a stretch", he said, "I remained in that state from which ordinary men can never return; generally the body falls off, after three weeks, like a sere leaf. I was not conscious of day and night. Flies would enter my mouth and nostrils just as they do a dead body's, but I did not feel them. My hair became matted with dust."
  From now on Sri Ramakrishna began to seek the company of devotees and holy men. He had gone through the storm and stress of spiritual disciplines and visions. Now he realized an inner calmness and appeared to others as a normal person. But he could not bear the company of worldly people or listen to their talk. Fortunately the holy atmosphere of Dakshinewar and the liberality of Mathur attracted monks and holy men from all pArts of the country. Sdhus of all denominations - monists and dualists, Vaishnavas and Vedntists, kts and worshippers of Rm - flocked there in ever increasing numbers. Ascetics and visionaries came to seek Sri Ramakrishna's advice.
  Vaishnavas had come during the period of his Vaishnava sdhana, and Tntriks when he practised the disciplines of Tantra. Vedntists began to arrive after the depArture of Totpuri. In the room of Sri Ramakrishna, who was then in bed with dysentery, the Vedntists engaged in scriptural discussions, and, forgetting his own physical suffering, he solved their doubts by referring directly to his own experiences. Many of the visitors were genuine spiritual souls, the unseen pillars of Hinduism, and their spiritual lives were quickened in no small measure by the sage of Dakshinewar. Sri Ramakrishna in turn learnt from them anecdotes concerning the ways and the conduct of holy men, which he subsequently narrated to his devotees and disciples. At his request Mathur provided him with large stores of foodstuffs, clothes, and so forth, for distribution among the wandering monks.
  Sri Ramakrishna had not read books, yet he possessed an encyclopaedic knowledge of religions and religious philosophies. This he acquired from his contacts with innumerable holy men and scholars. He had a unique power of assimilation; through meditation he made this knowledge a pArt of his being. Once, when he was asked by a disciple about the source of his seemingly inexhaustible knowledge, he replied: "I have not read; but I have heard the learned. I have made a garland of their knowledge, wearing it round my neck, and I have given it as an offering at the feet of the Mother."
  The effect of this experience was stronger than that of the vision of Mohammed. In dismay he cried out, "O Mother! What are You doing to me?" And, breaking through the barriers of creed and religion, he entered a new realm of ecstasy. Christ possessed his soul. For three days he did not set foot in the Kli temple. On the fourth day, in the afternoon, as he was walking in the Panchavati, he saw coming toward him a person with beautiful large eyes, serene countenance, and fair skin. As the two faced each other, a voice rang out in the depths of Sri Ramakrishna's soul: "Behold the Christ who shed His heArt's blood for the redemption of the world, who suffered a sea of anguish for love of men. It is He, the Master Yogi, who is in eternal union with God. It is Jesus, Love Incarnate." The Son of Man embraced the Son of the Divine Mother and merged in him.
  In 1867, Sri Ramakrishna returned to Kmrpukur to recuperate from the effect of his austerities. The peaceful countryside, the simple and Artless companions of his boyhood, and the pure air did him much good. The villagers were happy to get back their playful, frank, witty, kind-heArted, and truthful Gaddhar, though they did not fail to notice the great change that had come over him during his years in Calcutta. His wife, Srad Devi, now fourteen years old, soon arrived at Kmrpukur. Her spiritual development was much beyond her age and she was able to understand immediately her husband's state of mind. She became eager to learn from him about God and to live with him as his attendant. The Master accepted her cheerfully both as his disciple and as his spiritual companion. Referring to the experiences of these few days, she once said: "I used to feel always as if a pitcher full of bliss were placed in my heArt. The joy was indescribable."
  On January 27, 1868, Mathur Bbu with a pArty of some one hundred and twenty-five persons set out on a pilgrimage to the sacred places of northern India. At Vaidyanth in Behar, when the Master saw the inhabitants of a village reduced by poverty and starvation to mere skeletons, he requested his rich patron to feed the people and give each a piece of cloth. Mathur demurred at the added expense. The Master declared bitterly that he would not go on to Banras, but would live with the poor and share their miseries. He actually left Mathur and sat down with the villagers.
  The pArty entered holy Banras by boat along the Ganges. When Sri Ramakrishna's eyes fell on this city of iva, where had accumulated for ages the devotion and piety of countless worshippers, he saw it to be made of gold, as the scriptures declare. He was visibly moved. During his stay in the city he treated every pArticle of its eArth with utmost respect. At the Manikarnik Ght, the great cremation ground of the city, he actually saw iva, with ash-covered body and tawny matted hair, serenely approaching each funeral pyre and breathing into the ears of the corpses the mantra of liberation; and then the Divine Mother removing from the dead their bonds. Thus he realized the significance of the scriptural statement that anyone dying in Banras attains salvation through the grace of iva. He paid a visit to Trailanga Swmi, the celebrated monk, whom he later declared to be a real paramahamsa, a veritable image of iva.
  Sri Ramakrishna visited Allahbad, at the confluence of the Ganges and the Jamuna, and then proceeded to Vrindvan and Mathura, hallowed by the legends, songs, and dramas about Krishna and the gopis. Here he had numerous visions and his heArt overflowed with divine emotion. He wept and said: "O Krishna! Everything here is as it was in the olden days. You alone are absent." He visited the great woman saint Gangmyi, regarded by Vaishnava devotees as the reincarnation of an intimate attendant of Rdh.
  He recalled his father's vision at Gay before his own birth and felt that in the temple of Vishnu he would become permanently absorbed in God. Mathur, honouring the Master's wish, returned with his pArty to Calcutta.
  From Vrindvan the Master had brought a handful of dust. PArt of this he scattered in the Panchavati; the rest he buried in the little hut where he had practised meditation.
  Totpuri, coming to know of the Master's marriage, had once remarked: "What does it matter? He alone is firmly established in the Knowledge of Brahman who can adhere to his spirit of discrimination and renunciation even while living with his wife. He alone has attained the supreme illumination who can look on man and woman alike as Brahman. A man with the idea of sex may be a good aspirant, but he is still far from the goal." Sri Ramakrishna and his wife lived together at Dakshinewar, but their minds always soared above the worldly plane. A few months after Srad Devi's arrival Sri Ramakrishna arranged, on an auspicious day, a special worship of Kli, the Divine Mother. Instead of an image of the Deity, he placed on the seat the living image, Srad Devi herself. The worshipper and the worshipped went into deep Samdhi and in the transcendental plane their souls were united. After several hours Sri Ramakrishna came down again to the relative plane, sang a hymn to the Great Goddess, and surrendered, at the feet of the living image, himself, his rosary, and the fruit of his lifelong sdhana. This is known in Tantra as the Shodasi Puja, the "Adoration of Woman". Sri Ramakrishna realized the significance of the great statement of the Upanishad: "O Lord, Thou Art the woman, Thou Art the man; Thou Art the boy, Thou Art the girl; Thou Art the old, tottering on their crutches. Thou pervadest the universe in its multiple forms."
  Second, he knew that he had always been a free soul, that the various disciplines through which he had passed were really not necessary for his own liberation but were solely for the benefit of others. Thus the terms liberation and bondage were not applicable to him. As long as there are beings who consider themselves bound, God must come down to eArth as an Incarnation to free them from bondage, just as a magistrate must visit any pArt of his district in which there is trouble.
  During this period Sri Ramakrishna suffered several bereavements. The first was the death of a nephew named, Akshay. After the young man's death Sri Ramakrishna said: "Akshay died before my very eyes. But it did not affect me in the least. I stood by and watched a man die. It was like a sword being drawn from its scabbard. I enjoyed the scene, and laughed and sang and danced over it. They removed the body and cremated it. But the next day as I stood there (pointing to the southeast verandah of his room), I felt a racking pain for the loss of Akshay, as if somebody were squeezing my heArt like a wet towel. I wondered at it and thought that the Mother was teaching me a lesson. I was not much concerned even with my own body - much less with a relative. But if such was my pain at the loss of a nephew, how much more must be the grief of the householders at the loss of their near and dear ones!" In 1871 Mathur died, and some five years later ambhu Mallick - who, after Mathur's passing away, had taken care of the Master's comfort. In 1873 died his elder brother Rmewar, and in 1876, his beloved mother.
  These bereavements left their imprint on the tender human heArt of Sri Ramakrishna albeit he had realized the immortality of the soul and the illusoriness of birth and death.
  Keshab was the leader of the Brhmo Samj, one of the two great movements that, during the latter pArt of the nineteenth century, played an important pArt in shaping the course of the renascence of India. The founder of the Brhmo movement had been the great Rj Rmmohan Roy (1774-1833). Though born in an orthodox brhmin family, Rmmohan Roy had shown great sympathy for Islam and Christianity. He had gone to Tibet in search of the Buddhist mysteries. He had extracted from Christianity its ethical system, but had rejected the divinity of Christ as he had denied the Hindu Incarnations.
  Keshab possessed a complex nature. When passing through a great moral crisis, he spent much of his time in solitude and felt that he heard the voice of God. When a devotional form of worship was introduced into the Brhmo Samj, he spent hours in singing kirtan with his followers. He visited England in 1870 and impressed the English people with his musical voice, his simple English, and his spiritual fervour. He was entertained by Queen Victoria. Returning to India, he founded centres of the Brhmo Samj in various pArts of the country. Not unlike a professor of comparative religion in a European university, he began to discover, about the time of his first contact with Sri Ramakrishna, the harmony of religions. He became sympathetic toward the Hindu gods and goddesses, explaining them in a liberal fashion. Further, he believed that he was called by God to dictate to the world God's newly revealed law, the New Dispensation, the Navavidhn.
  In 1878 a schism divided Keshab's Samj. Some of his influential followers accused him of infringing the Brhmo principles by marrying his daughter to a wealthy man before she had attained the marriageable age approved by the Samj. This group seceded and established the Sdhran Brhmo Samj, Keshab remaining the leader of the Navavidhn. Keshab now began to be drawn more and more toward the Christ ideal, though under the influence of Sri Ramakrishna his devotion to the Divine Mother also deepened. His mental oscillation between Christ and the Divine Mother of Hinduism found no position of rest. In Bengl and some other pArts of India the Brhmo movement took the form of Unitarian Christianity, scoffed at Hindu rituals, and preached a crusade against image worship. Influenced by Western culture, it declared the supremacy of reason, advocated the ideals of the French Revolution, abolished the caste-system among, its own members, stood for the emancipation of women, agitate for the abolition of early marriage, sanctioned the remarriage of widows, and encouraged various educational and social-reform movements. The immediate effect of the Brhmo movement in Bengl was the checking of the proselytising activities of the Christian missionaries. It also raised Indian culture in the estimation of its English masters. But it was an intellectual and eclectic religious ferment born of the necessity of the time. Unlike Hinduism, it was not founded on the deep inner experiences of sages and prophets. Its influence was confined to a comparatively few educated men and women of the country, and the vast masses of the Hindus remained outside it. It sounded monotonously only one of the notes in the rich gamut of the Eternal Religion of the Hindus.
  The other movement playing an important pArt in the nineteenth-century religious revival of India was the rya Samj. The Brhmo Samj, essentially a movement of compromise with European culture, tacitly admitted the superiority of the West. But the founder of the rya Samj was a pugnacious Hindu sannysi who accepted the challenge of Islam and Christianity and was resolved to combat all foreign influence in India.
  Swmi Daynanda (1824-1883) launched this movement in Bombay in 1875, and soon its influence was felt throughout western India. The Swmi was a great scholar of the Vedas, which he explained as being strictly monotheistic. He preached against the worship of images and re-established the ancient Vedic sacrificial rites. According to him the Vedas were the ultimate authority on religion, and he accepted every word of them as literally true. The rya Samj became a bulwark against the encroachments of Islam and Christianity, and its orthodox flavour appealed to many Hindu minds. It also assumed leadership in many movements of social reform. The caste-system became a target of its attack. Women it liberated from many of their social disabilities. The cause of education received from it a great impetus. It stArted agitation against early marriage and advocated the remarriage of Hindu widows. Its influence was strongest in the Punjab, the battle-ground of the Hindu and Islamic cultures. A new fighting attitude was introduced into the slumbering Hindu society. Unlike the Brhmo Samj, the influence of the rya Samj was not confined to the intellectuals. It was a force that spread to the masses. It was a dogmatic movement intolerant of those disagreed with its views, and it emphasized only one way, the rya Samj way, to the realization of Truth. Sri Ramakrishna met Swmi Daynanda when the latter visited Bengl.
  Keshab Chandra Sen and Sri Ramakrishna met for the first time in the garden house of Jaygopl Sen at Belgharia, a few miles from Dakshinewar, where the great Brhmo leader was staying with some of his disciples. In many respects the two were poles apArt, though an irresistible inner attraction was to make them intimate friends. The Master had realized God as Pure Spirit and Consciousness, but he believed in the various forms of God as well. Keshab, on the other hand, regarded image worship as idolatry and gave allegorical explanations of the Hindu deities. Keshab was an orator and a writer of books and magazine Articles; Sri Ramakrishna had a horror of lecturing and hardly knew how to write his own name. Keshab's fame spread far and wide, even reaching the distant shores of England; the Master still led a secluded life in the village of Dakshinewar. Keshab emphasized social reforms for India's regeneration; to Sri Ramakrishna God-realization was the only goal of life. Keshab considered himself a disciple of Christ and accepted in a diluted form the Christian sacraments and Trinity; Sri Ramakrishna was the simple child of Kli, the Divine Mother, though he too, in a different way, acknowledged Christ's divinity. Keshab was a householder and took a real interest in the welfare of his children, whereas Sri Ramakrishna was a paramahamsa and completely indifferent to the life of the world. Yet, as their acquaintance ripened into friendship, Sri Ramakrishna and Keshab held each other in great love and respect. Years later, at the news of Keshab's death, the Master felt as if half his body had become paralysed. Keshab's concepts of the harmony of religions and the Motherhood of God were deepened and enriched by his contact with Sri Ramakrishna.
  Gradually other Brhmo leaders began to feel Sri Ramakrishna's influence. But they were by no means uncritical admirers of the Master. They pArticularly disapproved of his ascetic renunciation and condemnation of, "woman and gold".7 They measured him according to their own ideals of the householder's life. Some could not understand his Samdhi and described it as a nervous malady. Yet they could not resist his magnetic personality.
  He writes: "Ramakrishna was practically separated from his wife, who lived in her village home. One day when I was complaining to some friends about the virtual widowhood of his wife, he drew me to one side and whispered in my ear: 'Why do you complain? It is no longer possible; it is all dead and gone.' Another day as I was inveighing against this pArt of his teaching, and also declaring that our program of work in the Brhmo Samj includes women, that ours is a social and domestic religion, and that we want to give education and social liberty to women, the saint became very much excited, as was his way when anything against his settled conviction was asserted - a trait we so much liked in him - and exclaimed, 'Go, thou fool, go and perish in the pit that your women will dig for you.' Then he glared at me and said: 'What does a gardener do with a young plant?
  Does he not surround it with a fence, to protect it from goats and cattle? And when the young plant has grown up into a tree and it can no longer be injured by cattle, does he not remove the fence and let the tree grow freely?' I replied, 'Yes, that is the custom with gardeners.' Then he remarked, 'Do the same in your spiritual life; become strong, be full-grown; then you may seek them.' To which I replied, 'I don't agree with you in thinking that women's work is like that of cattle, destructive; they are our associates and helpers in our spiritual struggles and social progress' - a view with which he could not agree, and he marked his dissent by shaking his head. Then referring to the lateness of the hour he jocularly remarked, 'It is time for you to depArt; take care, do not be late; otherwise your woman will not admit you into her room.' This evoked heArty laughter."
  Pratp Chandra Mazumdr, the right-hand man of Keshab and an accomplished Brhmo preacher in Europe and America, bitterly criticized Sri Ramakrishna's use of uncultured language and also his austere attitude toward his wife. But he could not escape the spell of the Master's personality. In the course of an Article about Sri Ramakrishna, Pratp wrote in the "Theistic QuArterly Review": "What is there in common between him and me? I, a Europeanized, civilized, self-centered, semi-sceptical, so-called educated reasoner, and he, a poor, illiterate, unpolished, half-idolatrous, friendless Hindu devotee?
  It broadened their religious views and kindled in their heArts the yearning for God-realization; it made them understand and appreciate the rituals and symbols of Hindu religion, convinced them of the manifestation of God in diverse forms, and deepened their thoughts about the harmony of religions. The Master, too, was impressed by the sincerity of many of the, Brhmo devotees. He told them about his own realizations and explained to them the essence of his teachings, such as the necessity of renunciation, sincerity in the pursuit of one's own course of discipline, faith in God, the performance of one's duties without thought of results, and discrimination between the Real and the unreal.
  Contact with the Brahmos increased Sri Ramakrishna's longing to encounter aspirants who would be able to follow his teachings in their purest form. "There was no limit", he once declared, "to the longing I felt at that time. During the day-time I somehow managed to control it. The secular talk of the worldly-minded was galling to me, and I would look wistfully to the day when my own beloved companions would come. I hoped to find solace in conversing with them and relating to them my own realizations. Every little incident would remind me of them, and thoughts of them wholly engrossed me. I was already arranging in my mind what I should say to one and give to another, and so on. But when the day would come to a close I would not be able to curb my feelings. The thought that another day had gone by, and they had not come, oppressed me. When, during the evening service, the temples rang with the sound of bells and conchshells, I would climb to the roof of the Kuthi in the garden and, writhing in anguish of heArt, cry at the top of my voice: 'Come, my children! Oh, where are you? I cannot bear to live without you.' A mother never longed so intensely for the sight of her child, nor a friend for his companions, nor a lover for his sweetheArt, as I longed for them. Oh, it was indescribable! Shortly after this period of yearning the devotees began to come."
  In the year 1879 occasional writings about Sri Ramakrishna by the Brahmos, in the Brhmo magazines, began to attract his future disciples from the educated middle-class Benglis, and they continued to come till 1884. But others, too, came, feeling the subtle power of his attraction. They were an ever shifting crowd of people of all castes and creeds: Hindus and Brahmos, Vaishnavas and kts, the educated with university degrees and the illiterate, old and young, maharajas and beggars, journalists and Artists, pundits and devotees, philosophers and the worldly-minded, jnnis and yogis, men of action and men of faith, virtuous women and prostitutes, office-holders and vagabonds, philanthropists and self-seekers, dramatists and drunkards, builders-up and pullers-down. He gave to them all, without stint, from his illimitable store of realization. No one went away empty-handed. He taught them the lofty knowledge of the Vednta and the soul-melting love of the Purn. Twenty hours out of twenty-four he would speak without rest or respite. He gave to all his sympathy and enlightenment, and he touched them with that strange power of the soul which could not but melt even the most hardened. And people understood him according to their powers of comprehension.
  Yet he was an extraordinary teacher. He stirred his disciples' heArts more by a subtle influence than by actions or words. He never claimed to be the founder of a religion or the organizer of a sect. Yet he was a religious dynamo. He was the verifier of all religions and creeds. He was like an expert gardener, who prepares the soil and removes the weeds, knowing that the plants will grow because of the inherent power of the seeds, producing each its appropriate flowers and fruits. He never thrust his ideas on anybody.
  To those who became his intimate disciples the Master was a friend, companion, and playmate. Even the chores of religious discipline would be lightened in his presence. The devotees would be so inebriated with pure joy in his company that they would have no time to ask themselves whether he was an Incarnation, a perfect soul, or a yogi. His very presence was a great teaching; words were superfluous. In later years his disciples remarked that while they were with him they would regard him as a comrade, but afterwards would tremble to think of their frivolities in the presence of such a great person. They had convincing proof that the Master could, by his mere wish, kindle in their heArts the love of God and give them His vision.
  Suresh Mitra, a beloved disciple whom the Master often addressed as Surendra, had received an English education and held an important post in an English firm. Like many other educated young men of the time, he prided himself on his atheism and led a Bohemian life. He was addicted to drinking. He cherished an exaggerated notion about man's free will. A victim of mental depression, he was brought to Sri Ramakrishna by Rmchandra Dutta. When he heard the Master asking a disciple to practise the virtue of self-surrender to God, he was impressed. But though he tried thenceforth to do so, he was unable to give up his old associates and his drinking. One day the Master said in his presence, "Well, when a man goes to an undesirable place, why doesn't he take the Divine Mother with him?" And to Surendra himself Sri Ramakrishna said: "Why should you drink wine as wine? Offer it to Kli, and then take it as Her Prasd, as consecrated drink. But see that you don't, become intoxicated; you must not reel and your thoughts must not wander. At first you will feel ordinary excitement, but soon you will experience spiritual exaltation." Gradually Surendra's entire life was changed. The Master designated him as one of those commissioned by the Divine Mother to defray a great pArt of his expenses. Surendra's purse was always open for the Master's comfort.
  He is indeed blessed who can give his love to God with his whole heArt. Even a little attachment to the body endures for several births. So do not be attached to this cage of bone and flesh. Take shelter at the feet of the Mother and think of Her alone. Thus your life here and hereafter will he ennobled." The Master spoke of him as a "blazing light".
  He often loaded the Master with insults, drank in his presence, and took liberties which astounded the other devotees. But the Master knew that at heArt Girish was tender, faithful, and sincere. He would not allow Girish to give up the theatre. And when a devotee asked him to tell Girish to give up drinking, he sternly replied: "That is none of your business. He who has taken charge of him will look after him. Girish is a devotee of heroic type. I tell you, drinking will not affect him." The Master knew that mere words could not induce a man to break deep-rooted habits, but that the silent influence of love worked miracles. Therefore he never asked him to give up alcohol, with the result that Girish himself eventually broke the habit. Sri Ramakrishna had strengthened Girish's resolution by allowing him to feel that he was absolutely free.
  One day Girish felt depressed because he was unable to submit to any routine of spiritual discipline. In an exalted mood the Master said to him: "All right, give me your power of attorney. Henceforth I assume responsibility for you. You need not do anything." Girish heaved a sigh of relief. He felt happy to think that Sri Ramakrishna had assumed his spiritual responsibilities. But poor Girish could not then realize that he also, on his pArt, had to give up his freedom and make of himself a puppet in Sri Ramakrishna's hands. The Master began to discipline him according to this new attitude.
  The householder devotees generally visited Sri Ramakrishna on Sunday afternoons and other holidays. Thus a brotherhood was gradually formed, and the Master encouraged their fraternal feeling. Now and then he would accept an invitation to a devotee's home, where other devotees would also be invited. Kirtan would be arranged and they would spend hours in dance and devotional music. The Master would go into trances or open his heArt in religious discourses and in the narration of his own spiritual experiences.
  Many people who could not go to Dakshinewar pArticipated in these meetings and felt blessed. Such an occasion would be concluded with a sumptuous feast.
  Mahimcharan and Pratp Hazra were two devotees outstanding for their pretentiousness and idiosyncrasies. But the Master showed them his unfailing love and kindness, though he was aware of their shortcomings. Mahimcharan ChakravArty had met the Master long before the arrival of the other disciples. He had had the intention of leading a spiritual life, but a strong desire to acquire name and fame was his weakness.
  Sri Ramakrishna also became acquainted with a number of people whose scholarship or wealth entitled them everywhere to respect. He had met, a few years before, Devendranth Tgore, famous all over Bengl for his wealth, scholarship, saintly character, and social position. But the Master found him disappointing; for, whereas Sri Ramakrishna expected of a saint complete renunciation of the world, Devendranth combined with his saintliness a life of enjoyment. Sri Ramakrishna met the great poet Michael Madhusudan, who had embraced Christianity "for the sake of his stomach". To him the Master could not impArt instruction, for the Divine Mother "pressed his tongue".
  In addition he met Mahrja Jatindra Mohan Tgore, a titled aristocrat of Bengl; Kristods Pl, the editor, social reformer, and patriot; Iswar Chandra Vidysgar, the noted philanthropist and educator; Pundit aadhar, a great champion of Hindu orthodoxy; Awini Kumr Dutta, a headmaster, moralist, and leader of Indian Nationalism; and Bankim Chatterji, a deputy magistrate, novelist, and essayist, and one of the fashioners of modern Bengli prose. Sri Ramakrishna was not the man to be dazzled by outward show, glory, or eloquence. A pundit without discrimination he regarded as a mere straw. He would search people's heArts for the light of God, and if that was missing, he would have nothing to do with them.
  12. Subodh Ghosh (Swmi Subodhnanda) 13. ashibhushan ChakravArty (Swmi Rmakrishnnanda) 14. aratchandra ChakravArty (Swmi Sradnanda)
  To spread his message to the four corners of the eArth Sri Ramakrishna needed a strong instrument. With his frail body and delicate limbs he could not make great journeys across wide spaces. And such an instrument was found in Narendranth Dutta, his beloved Naren, later known to the world as Swmi Viveknanda. Even before meeting Narendranth, the Master had seen him in a vision as a sage, immersed in the meditation of the Absolute, who at Sri Ramakrishna's request had agreed to take human birth to assist him in his work.
  His mother was steeped in the great Hindu epics, and his father, a distinguished attorney of the Calcutta High Court, was an agnostic about religion, a friend of the poor, and a mocker at social conventions. Even in his boyhood and youth Narendra possessed great physical courage and presence of mind, a vivid imagination, deep power of thought, keen intelligence, an extraordinary memory, a love of truth, a passion for purity, a spirit of independence, and a tender heArt. An expert musician, he also acquired proficiency in physics, astronomy, mathematics, philosophy, history, and literature. He grew up into an extremely handsome young man. Even as a child he practised meditation and showed great power of concentration. Though free and passionate in word and action, he took the vow of austere religious chastity and never allowed the fire of purity to be extinguished by the slightest defilement of body or soul.
  In a state of mental conflict and torture of soul, Narendra came to Sri Ramakrishna at Dakshinewar. He was then eighteen years of age and had been in college two years. He entered the Master's room accompanied by some light-heArted friends. At Sri Ramakrishna's request he sang a few songs, pouring his whole soul into them, and the Master went into Samdhi. A few minutes later Sri Ramakrishna suddenly left his seat, took Narendra by the hand, and led him to the screened verandah north of his room.
  They were alone. Addressing Narendra most tenderly, as if he were a friend of long acquaintance, the Master said: "Ah! You have come very late. Why have you been so unkind as to make me wait all these days? My ears are tired of hearing the futile words of worldly men. Oh, how I have longed to pour my spirit into the heArt of someone fitted to receive my message!" He talked thus, sobbing all the time. Then, standing before Narendra with folded hands, he addressed him as Nryana, born on eArth to remove the misery of humanity. Grasping Narendra's hand, he asked him to come again, alone, and very soon. Narendra was stArtled. "What is this I have come to see?" he said to himself. "He must be stark mad. Why, I am the son of Viswanth Dutta. How dare he speak this way to me?"
  Moreover, he openly laughed at Sri Ramakrishna's visions as hallucinations. Yet in the secret chamber of his heArt he bore a great love for the Master.
  At the beginning of 1884 Narendra's father suddenly died of heArt-failure, leaving the family in a state of utmost poverty. There were six or seven mouths to feed at home.
  Narendra began to talk of his doubt of the very existence of God. His friends thought he had become an atheist and piously circulated gossip adducing unmentionable motives for his unbelief. His moral character was maligned. Even some of the Master's disciples pArtly believed the gossip, and Narendra told these to their faces that only a coward believed in God through fear of suffering or hell. But he was distressed to think that Sri Ramakrishna, too, might believe these false reports. His pride revolted. He said to himself: "What does it matter? If a man's good name rests on such slender foundations, I don't care." But later on he was amazed to learn that the Master had never lost faith in him. To a disciple who complained about Narendra's degradation, Sri Ramakrishna replied: "Hush, you fool! The Mother has told me it can never be so. I won't look at you if you speak that way again."
  Bburm Ghosh came to Dakshinewar accompanied by Rkhl, his classmate. The Master, as was often his custom, examined the boy's physiognomy and was satisfied about his latent spirituality. At the age of eight Bburm had thought of leading a life of renunciation, in the company of a monk, in a hut shut out from the public view by a thick wall of trees. The very sight of the Panchavati awakened in his heArt that dream of boyhood. Bburm was tender in body and soul. The Master used to say that he was pure to his very bones. One day Hazra in his usual mischievous fashion advised Bburm and some of the other young boys to ask Sri Ramakrishna for some spiritual powers and not waste their life in mere gaiety and merriment. The Master, scenting mischief, called Bburm to his side, and said: "What can you ask of me? Isn't everything that I have already yours? Yes, everything I have earned in the shape of realizations is for the sake of you all. So get rid of the idea of begging, which alienates by creating a distance.
  Nitya Niranjan Sen was a disciple of heroic type. He came to the Master when he was eighteen years old. He was a medium for a group of spiritualists. During his first visit the Master said to him: "My boy, if you think always of ghosts you will become a ghost, and if you think of God you will become God. Now, which do you prefer?" Niranjan severed all connections with the spiritualists. During his second visit the Master embraced him and said warmly: "Niranjan, my boy, the days are flitting away. When will you realize God? This life will be in vain if you do not realize Him. When will You devote your mind wholly to God?" Niranjan was surprised to see the Master's great anxiety for his spiritual welfare. He was a young man endowed with unusual spiritual pArts. He felt disdain for worldly pleasures and was totally guileless, like a child. But he had a violent temper. One day, as he was coming in a country boat to Dakshinewar, some of his fellow passengers began to speak ill of the Master. Finding his protest futile, Niranjan began to rock the boat, threatening to sink it in midstream. That silenced the offenders. When he reported the incident to the Master, he was rebuked for his inability to curb his anger.
  arat's soul longed for the all-embracing realization of the Godhead. When the Master inquired whether there was any pArticular form of God he wished to see, the boy replied that he would like to see God in all the living beings of the world. "But", the Master demurred, "that is the last word in realization. One cannot have it at the very outset."
  Kliprasd visited the Master toward the end of 1883. Given to the practice of meditation and the study of the scriptures, Kli was pArticularly interested in yoga. Feeling the need of a guru in spiritual life, he came to the Master and was accepted as a disciple. The young boy possessed a rational mind and often felt sceptical about the Personal God.
  One early morning at three o'clock, about a year later, Gopl M was about to finish her daily devotions, when she was stArtled to find Sri Ramakrishna sitting on her left, with his right hand clenched, like the hand of the image of Gopl. She was amazed and caught hold of the hand, whereupon the figure vanished and in its place appeared the real Gopl, her Ideal Deity. She cried aloud with joy. Gopl begged her for butter. She pleaded her poverty and gave Him some dry coconut candies. Gopl sat on her lap, snatched away her rosary, jumped on her shoulders, and moved all about the room. As soon as the day broke she hastened to Dakshinewar like an insane woman. Of course Gopl accompanied her, resting His head on her shoulder. She clearly saw His tiny ruddy feet hanging over her breast. She entered Sri Ramakrishna's room. The Master had fallen into Samdhi. Like a child, he sat on her lap, and she began to feed him with butter, cream, and other delicacies. After some time he regained consciousness and returned to his bed. But the mind of Gopl's Mother was still roaming in another plane.
  never leaving her for a moment. Then the intensity of her vision was lessened; had it not been, her body would have perished. The Master spoke highly of her exalted spiritual condition and said that such vision of God was a rare thing for ordinary mortals. The fun-loving Master one day confronted the critical Narendranth with this simple-minded woman. No two could have presented a more striking contrast. The Master knew of Narendra's lofty contempt for all visions, and he asked the old lady to narrate her experiences to Narendra. With great hesitation she told him her story. Now and then she interrupted her maternal chatter to ask Narendra: "My son, I am a poor ignorant woman. I don't understand anything. You are so learned. Now tell me if these visions of Gopl are true." As Narendra listened to the story he was profoundly moved. He said, "Yes, mother, they are quite true." Behind his cynicism Narendra, too, possessed a heArt full of love and tenderness.
  During the weekends the householders, enjoying a respite from their office duties, visited the Master. The meetings on Sunday afternoons were of the nature of little festivals. Refreshments were often served. Professional musicians now and then sang devotional songs. The Master and the devotees sang and danced, Sri Ramakrishna frequently going into ecstatic moods. The happy memory of such a Sunday would linger long in the minds of the devotees. Those whom the Master wanted for special instruction he would ask to visit him on Tuesdays and Saturdays. These days were pArticularly auspicious for the worship of Kli.
  But his large heArt never turned anyone away. He said, "Let me be condemned to be born over and over again, even in the form of a dog, if I can be of help to a single soul."
  One night he had a haemorrhage of the throat. The doctor now diagnosed the illness as cancer. Narendra was the first to break this heArt-rending news to the disciples. Within three days the Master was removed to Calcutta for better treatment. At Balarm's house he remained a week until a suitable place could be found at ympukur, in the northern section of Calcutta. During this week he dedicated himself practically without respite to the instruction of those beloved devotees who had been unable to visit him oftener at Dakshinewar. Discourses incessantly flowed from his tongue, and he often went into Samdhi. Dr. Mahendra Sarkr, the celebrated homeopath of Calcutta, was invited to undertake his treatment.
  In the beginning of September 1885 Sri Ramakrishna was moved to ympukur. Here Narendra organized the young disciples to attend the Master day and night. At first they concealed the Master's illness from their guardians; but when it became more serious they remained with him almost constantly, sweeping aside the objections of their relatives and devoting themselves whole-heArtedly to the nursing of their beloved guru.
  It was noticed at this time that some of the devotees were making an unbridled display of their emotions. A number of them, pArticularly among the householders, began to cultivate, though at first unconsciously, the Art of shedding tears, shaking the body, contorting the face, and going into trances, attempting thereby to imitate the Master.
  It was at Cossipore that the curtain fell on the varied activities of the Master's life on the physical plane. His soul lingered in the body eight months more. It was the period of his great Passion, a constant crucifixion of the body and the triumphant revelation of the Soul. Here one sees the humanity and divinity of the Master passing and repassing across a thin border line. Every minute of those eight months was suffused with touching tenderness of heArt and breath-taking elevation of spirit. Every word he uttered was full of pathos and sublimity.
  Narendra, consumed with a terrific fever for realization, complained to the Master that all the others had attained peace and that he alone was dissatisfied. The Master asked what he wanted. Narendra begged for Samdhi, so that he might altogether forget the world for three or four days at a time. "You are a fool", the Master rebuked him. "There is a state even higher than that. Isn't it you who sing, 'All that exists Art Thou'? First of all settle your family affairs and then come to me. You will experience a state even higher than Samdhi."
  Sri Ramakrishna was sinking day by day. His diet was reduced to a minimum and he found it almost impossible to swallow. He whispered to M.: "I am bearing all this cheerfully, for otherwise you would be weeping. If you all say that it is better that the body should go rather than suffer this torture, I am willing." The next morning he said to his depressed disciples seated near the bed: "Do you know what I see? I see that God alone has become everything. Men and animals are only frameworks covered with skin, and it is He who is moving through their heads and limbs. I see that it is God Himself who has become the block, the executioner, and the victim for the sacrifice." He fainted with emotion. Regaining pArtial consciousness, he said: "Now I have no pain. I am very well." Looking at Ltu he said: "There sits Ltu resting his head on the palm of his hand.
  Yet one is not sure whether the Master's soul actually was tortured by this agonizing disease. At least during his moments of spiritual exaltation - which became almost constant during the closing days of his life on eArth - he lost all consciousness of the body, of illness and suffering. One of his attendants said later on: "While Sri Ramakrishna lay sick he never actually suffered pain. He would often say: 'O mind!
  One day when Narendra was on the ground floor, meditating, the Master was lying awake in his bed upstairs. In the depths of his meditation Narendra felt as though a lamp were burning at the back of his head. Suddenly he lost consciousness. It was the yearned-for, all-effacing experience of nirvikalpa Samdhi, when the embodied soul realizes its unity with the Absolute. After a very long time he regained pArtial consciousness but was unable to find his body. He could see only his head. "Where is my body?" he cried. The elder Gopl entered the room and said, "Why, it is here, Naren!"
  Dr. Sarkr arrived the following noon and pronounced that life had depArted not more than half an hour before. At five o'clock the Master's body was brought downstairs, laid on a cot, dressed in ochre clothes, and decorated with sandal-past and flowers. A procession was formed. The passers-by wept as the body was taken to the cremation ground at the Brnagore Ght on the Ganges.

1.00_-_Gospel_Preface, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  IN THE HISTORY of the Arts, genius is a thing of very rare occurrence. Rarer still, however, are the competent reporters and recorders of that genius. The world has had many hundreds of admirable poets and philosophers; but of these hundreds only a very few have had the fortune to attract a Boswell or an Eckermann.
  When we leave the field of Art for that of spiritual religion, the scarcity of competent reporters becomes even more strongly marked. Of the day-to-day life of the great theocentric saints and contemplatives we know, in the great majority of cases, nothing whatever. Many, it is true, have recorded their doctrines in writing, and a few, such as St. Augustine, Suso and St. Teresa, have left us autobiographies of the greatest value.
  I have made a literal translation, omitting only a few pages of no pArticular interest to English-speaking readers. Often literary grace has been sacrificed for the sake of literal translation. No translation can do full justice to the original. This difficulty is all the more felt in the present work, whose contents are of a deep mystical nature and describe the inner experiences of a great seer. Human language is an altogether inadequate vehicle to express supersensuous perception. Sri Ramakrishna was almost illiterate. He never clothed his thoughts in formal language. His words sought to convey his direct realization of Truth. His conversation was in a village patois. Therein lies its charm. In order to explain to his listeners an abstruse philosophy, he, like Christ before him, used with telling effect homely parables and illustrations, culled from his observation of the daily life around him.
  There are repetitions of teachings and parables in the book. I have kept them purposely. They have their charm and usefulness, repeated as they were in different settings. Repetition is unavoidable in a work of this kind. In the first place, different seekers come to a religious teacher with questions of more or less identical nature; hence the answers will be of more or less identical pattern. Besides, religious teachers of all times and climes have tried, by means of repetition, to hammer truths into the stony soil of the recalcitrant human mind. Finally, repetition does not seem tedious if the ideas repeated are dear to a man's heArt.
  I have thought it necessary to write a rather lengthy Introduction to the book. In it I have given the biography of the Master, descriptions of people who came in contact with him, short explanations of several systems of Indian religious thought intimately connected with Sri Ramakrishna's life, and other relevant matters which, I hope, will enable the reader better to understand and appreciate the unusual contents of this book. It is pArticularly important that the Western reader, unacquainted with Hindu religious thought, should first read carefully the introductory chapter, in order that he may fully enjoy these conversations. Many Indian terms and names have been retained in the book for want of suitable English equivalents. Their meaning is given either in the Glossary or in the foot-notes. The Glossary also gives explanations of a number of expressions unfamiliar to Western readers. The diacritical marks are explained under Notes on Pronunciation.
  In the Introduction I have drawn much material from the Life of Sri Ramakrishna, published by the Advaita Ashrama, Myvati, India. I have also consulted the excellent Article on Sri Ramakrishna by Swami Nirvednanda, in the second volume of the Cultural Heritage of India.
  The book contains many songs sung either by the Master or by the devotees. These form an important feature of the spiritual tradition of Bengal and were for the most pArt written by men of mystical experience. For giving the songs their present form I am grateful to Mr. John Moffitt, Jr.
  The life and teachings of Sri Ramakrishna have redirected the thoughts of the denationalized Hindus to the spiritual ideals of their forefathers. During the latter pArt of the nineteenth century his was the time-honoured role of the Saviour of the Eternal Religion of the Hindus. His teachings played an important pArt in liberalizing the minds of orthodox pundits and hermits. Even now he is the silent force that is moulding the spiritual destiny of India. His great disciple, Swami Vivekananda, was the first Hindu missionary to preach the message of Indian culture to the enlightened minds of Europe and America. The full consequence of Swami Viveknand work is still in the womb of the future.
  In the life of the great Saviours and Prophets of the world it is often found that they are accompanied by souls of high spiritual potency who play a conspicuous pArt in the furtherance of their Master's mission. They become so integral a pArt of the life and work of these great ones that posterity can think of them only in mutual association. Such is the case with Sri Ramakrishna and M., whose diary has come to be known to the world as the Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna in English and as Sri Rmakrishna Kathmrita in the original Bengali version.
  He was an educationist all his life both in a spiritual and in a secular sense. After he passed out of College, he took up work as headmaster in a number of schools in succession Narail High School, City School, Ripon College School, Metropolitan School, Aryan School, Oriental School, Oriental Seminary and Model School. The causes of his migration from school to school were that he could not get on with some of the managements on grounds of principles and that often his spiritual mood drew him away to places of pilgrimage for long periods. He worked with some of the most noted public men of the time like Iswar Chandra Vidysgar and Surendranath Banerjee. The latter appointed him as a professor in the City and Ripon Colleges where he taught subjects like English, philosophy, history and economics. In his later days he took over the Morton School, and he spent his time in the staircase room of the third floor of it, administering the school and preaching the message of the Master. He was much respected in educational circles where he was usually referred to as Rector Mahashay. A teacher who had worked under him writes thus in warm appreciation of his teaching methods: "Only when I worked with him in school could I appreciate what a great educationist he was. He would come down to the level of his students when teaching, though he himself was so learned, so talented. Ordinarily teachers confine their instruction to what is given in books without much thought as to whether the student can accept it or not. But M., would first of all gauge how much the student could take in and by what means. He would employ aids to teaching like maps, pictures and diagrams, so that his students could learn by seeing. Thirty years ago (from 1953) when the question of impArting education through the medium of the mother tongue was being discussed, M. had already employed Bengali as the medium of instruction in the Morton School." (M The Apostle and the Evangelist by Swami Nityatmananda PArt I. P. 15.)
  ImpArting secular education was, however, only his profession ; his main concern was with the spiritual regeneration of man a calling for which Destiny seems to have chosen him. From his childhood he was deeply pious, and he used to be moved very much by Sdhus, temples and Durga Puja celebrations. The piety and eloquence of the great Brahmo leader of the times, Keshab Chander Sen, elicited a powerful response from the impressionable mind of Mahendra Nath, as it did in the case of many an idealistic young man of Calcutta, and prepared him to receive the great Light that was to dawn on him with the coming of Sri Ramakrishna into his life.
  It did not take much time for M. to become very intimate with the Master, or for the Master to recognise in this disciple a divinely commissioned pArtner in the fulfilment of his spiritual mission. When M. was reading out the Chaitanya Bhagavata, the Master discovered that he had been, in a previous birth, a disciple and companion of the great Vaishnava Teacher, Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, and the Master even saw him 'with his naked eye' pArticipating in the ecstatic mass-singing of the Lord's name under the leadership of that Divine personality. So the Master told M, "You are my own, of the same substance as the father and the son," indicating thereby that M. was one of the chosen few and a pArt and parcel of his Divine mission.
  Sri Ramakrishna was a teacher for both the Orders of mankind, Sannysins and householders. His own life offered an ideal example for both, and he left behind disciples who followed the highest traditions he had set in respect of both these ways of life. M., along with Nag Mahashay, exemplified how a householder can rise to the highest level of sagehood. M. was married to Nikunja Devi, a distant relative of Keshab Chander Sen, even when he was reading at College, and he had four children, two sons and two daughters. The responsibility of the family, no doubt, made him dependent on his professional income, but the great devotee that he was, he never compromised with ideals and principles for this reason. Once when he was working as the headmaster in a school managed by the great Vidysgar, the results of the school at the public examination happened to be rather poor, and Vidysgar attributed it to M's preoccupation with the Master and his consequent failure to attend adequately to the school work. M. at once resigned his post without any thought of the morrow. Within a fortnight the family was in poverty, and M. was one day pacing up and down the verandah of his house, musing how he would feed his children the next day. Just then a man came with a letter addressed to 'Mahendra Babu', and on opening it, M. found that it was a letter from his friend Sri Surendra Nath Banerjee, asking whether he would like to take up a professorship in the Ripon College. In this way three or four times he gave up the job that gave him the wherewithal to support the family, either for upholding principles or for practising spiritual Sadhanas in holy places, without any consideration of the possible dire worldly consequences; but he was always able to get over these difficulties somehow, and the interests of his family never suffered. In spite of his disregard for worldly goods, he was, towards the latter pArt of his life, in a fairly flourishing condition as the proprietor of the Morton School which he developed into a noted educational institution in the city. The Lord has said in the Bhagavad Git that in the case of those who think of nothing except Him, He Himself would take up all their material and spiritual responsibilities. M. was an example of the truth of the Lord's promise.
  Though his children received proper attention from him, his real family, both during the Master's lifetime and after, consisted of saints, devotees, Sannysins and spiritual aspirants. His life exemplifies the Master's teaching that an ideal householder must be like a good maidservant of a family, loving and caring properly for the children of the house, but knowing always that her real home and children are elsewhere. During the Master's lifetime he spent all his Sundays and other holidays with him and his devotees, and besides listening to the holy talks and devotional music, practised meditation both on the Personal and the Impersonal aspects of God under the direct guidance of the Master. In the pages of the Gospel the reader gets a picture of M.'s spiritual relationship with the Master how from a hazy belief in the Impersonal God of the Brahmos, he was step by step brought to accept both Personality and Impersonality as the two aspects of the same Non-dual Being, how he was convinced of the manifestation of that Being as Gods, Goddesses and as Incarnations, and how he was established in a life that was both of a Jnni and of a Bhakta. This Jnni-Bhakta outlook and way of living became so dominant a feature of his life that Swami Raghavananda, who was very closely associated with him during his last six years, remarks: "Among those who lived with M. in latter days, some felt that he always lived in this constant and conscious union with God even with open eyes (i.e., even in waking consciousness)." (Swami Raghavananda's Article on M. in Prabuddha Bharata vol. XXXVII. P. 442.)
  Besides undergoing spiritual disciplines at the feet of the Master, M. used to go to holy places during the Master's lifetime itself and afterwards too as a pArt of his Sdhan.
  The life of Sdhan and holy association that he stArted on at the feet of the Master, he continued all through his life. He has for this reason been most appropriately described as a Grihastha-Sannysi (householder-Sannysin). Though he was forbidden by the Master to become a Sannysin, his reverence for the Sannysa ideal was whole-heArted and was without any reservation. So after Sri Ramakrishna's passing away, while several of the Master's householder devotees considered the young Sannysin disciples of the Master as inexperienced and inconsequential, M. stood by them with the firm faith that the Master's life and message were going to be perpetuated only through them. Swami Vivekananda wrote from America in a letter to the inmates of the Math: "When Sri Thkur (Master) left the body, every one gave us up as a few unripe urchins. But M. and a few others did not leave us in the lurch. We cannot repay our debt to them." (Swami Raghavananda's Article on M. in Prabuddha Bharata vol. XXX P. 442.)
  M. spent his weekends and holidays with the monastic brethren who, after the Master's demise, had formed themselves into an Order with a Math at Baranagore, and pArticipated in the intense life of devotion and meditation that they followed. At other times he would retire to Dakshineswar or some garden in the city and spend several days in spiritual practice taking simple self-cooked food. In order to feel that he was one with all mankind he often used to go out of his home at dead of night, and like a wandering Sannysin, sleep with the waifs on some open verandah or footpath on the road.
  While many educated people heard Sri Ramakrishna's talks, it was given to this illustrious personage alone to leave a graphic and exact account of them for posterity, with details like date, hour, place, names and pArticulars about pArticipants. Humanity owes this great book to the ingrained habit of diary-keeping with which M. was endowed.
  Even as a boy of about thirteen, while he was a student in the 3rd class of the Hare School, he was in the habit of keeping a diary. "Today on rising," he wrote in his diary, "I greeted my father and mother, prostrating on the ground before them" (Swami Nityatmananda's 'M The Apostle and the Evangelist' PArt I. P 29.) At another place he wrote, "Today, while on my way to school, I visited, as usual, the temples of Kli, the Mother at Tharitharia, and of Mother Sitala, and paid my obeisance to them." About twenty-five years after, when he met the Great Master in the spring of 1882, it was the same instinct of a born diary-writer that made him begin his book, 'unique in the literature of hagiography', with the memorable words: "When hearing the name of Hari or Rma once, you shed tears and your hair stands on end, then you may know for certain that you do not have to perform devotions such as Sandhya any more."
  Besides the prompting of his inherent instinct, the main inducement for M. to keep this diary of his experiences at Dakshineswar was his desire to provide himself with a means for living in holy company at all times. Being a school teacher, he could be with the Master only on Sundays and other holidays, and it was on his diary that he depended for 'holy company' on other days. The devotional scriptures like the Bhagavata say that holy company is the first and most important means for the generation and growth of devotion. For, in such company man could hear talks on spiritual matters and listen to the glorification of Divine attributes, charged with the fervour and conviction emanating from the heArts of great lovers of God. Such company is therefore the one certain means through which Sraddha (Faith), Rati (attachment to God) and Bhakti (loving devotion) are generated. The diary of his visits to Dakshineswar provided M. with material for re-living, through reading and contemplation, the holy company he had had earlier, even on days when he was not able to visit Dakshineswar. The wealth of details and the vivid description of men and things in the midst of which the sublime conversations are set, provide excellent material to re-live those experiences for any one with imaginative powers. It was observed by M.'s disciples and admirers that in later life also whenever he was free or alone, he would be pouring over his diary, transporting himself on the wings of imagination to the glorious days he spent at the feet of the Master.
  During the Master's lifetime M. does not seem to have revealed the contents of his diary to any one. There is an unconfirmed tradition that when the Master saw him taking notes, he expressed apprehension at the possibility of his utilising these to publicise him like Keshab Sen; for the Great Master was so full of the spirit of renunciation and humility that he disliked being lionised. It must be for this reason that no one knew about this precious diary of M. for a decade until he brought out selections from it as a pamphlet in English in 1897 with the Holy Mother's blessings and permission. The Holy Mother, being very much pleased to hear pArts of the diary read to her in Bengali, wrote to M.: "When I heard the Kathmrita, (Bengali name of the book) I felt as if it was he, the Master, who was saying all that." ( Ibid PArt I. P 37.)
  And Swamiji added a post script to the letter: "Socratic dialogues are Plato all over you are entirely hidden. Moreover, the dramatic pArt is infinitely beautiful. Everybody likes it here or in the West." Indeed, in order to be unknown, Mahendranath had used the pen-name M., under which the book has been appearing till now. But so great a book cannot remain obscure for long, nor can its author remain unrecognised by the large public in these modern times. M. and his book came to be widely known very soon and to meet the growing demand, a full-sized book, Vol. I of the Gospel, translated by the author himself, was published in 1907 by the Brahmavadin Office, Madras. A second edition of it, revised by the author, was brought out by the Ramakrishna Math, Madras in December 1911, and subsequently a second pArt, containing new chapters from the original Bengali, was published by the same Math in 1922. The full English translation of the Gospel by Swami Nikhilananda appeared first in 1942.
  In Bengali the book is published in five volumes, the first pArt having appeared in 1902
  The Apostle and the Evangelist by Swami Nityatmananda PArt I, P 37.)
  In 1905 he retired from the active life of a Professor and devoted his remaining twenty-seven years exclusively to the preaching of the life and message of the Great Master. He bought the Morton Institution from its original proprietors and shifted it to a commodious four-storeyed house at 50 Amherst Street, where it flourished under his management as one of the most efficient educational institutions in Calcutta. He generally occupied a staircase room at the top of it, cooking his own meal which consisted only of milk and rice without variation, and attended to all his personal needs himself. His dress also was the simplest possible. It was his conviction that limitation of personal wants to the minimum is an important aid to holy living. About one hour in the morning he would spend in inspecting the classes of the school, and then retire to his staircase room to pour over his diary and live in the divine atmosphere of the eArthly days of the Great Master, unless devotees and admirers had already gathered in his room seeking his holy company.
  In appearance, M. looked a Vedic Rishi. Tall and stately in bearing, he had a strong and well-built body, an unusually broad chest, high forehead and arms extending to the knees. His complexion was fair and his prominent eyes were always tinged with the expression of the divine love that filled his heArt. Adorned with a silvery beard that flowed luxuriantly down his chest, and a shining face radiating the serenity and gravity of holiness, M. was as imposing and majestic as he was handsome and engaging in appearance. Humorous, sweet-tongued and eloquent when situations required, this great Maharishi of our age lived only to sing the glory of Sri Ramakrishna day and night.
  Though a much-sought-after spiritual guide, an educationist of repute, and a contemporary and close associate of illustrious personages like Sri Ramakrishna, Swami Vivekananda, Keshab Chander Sen and Iswar Chander Vidysgar, he was always moved by the noble humanity of a lover of God, which consists in respecting the personalities of all as receptacles of the Divine Spirit. So he taught without the consciousness of a teacher, and no bar of superiority stood in the way of his doing the humblest service to his students and devotees. "He was a commission of love," writes his close devotee, Swami Raghavananda, "and yet his soft and sweet words would pierce the stoniest heArt, make the worldly-minded weep and repent and turn Godwards."
  As time went on and the number of devotees increased, the staircase room and terrace of the 3rd floor of the Morton Institution became a veritable Naimisaranya of modern times, resounding during all hours of the day, and sometimes of night, too, with the word of God coming from the Rishi-like face of M. addressed to the eager God-seekers sitting around. To the devotees who helped him in preparing the text of the Gospel, he would dictate the conversations of the Master in a meditative mood, referring now and then to his diary. At times in the stillness of midnight he would awaken a nearby devotee and tell him: "Let us listen to the words of the Master in the depths of the night as he explains the truth of the Pranava." ( Vednta Kesari XIX P. 142.) Swami Raghavananda, an intimate devotee of M., writes as follows about these devotional sittings: "In the sweet and warm months of April and May, sitting under the canopy of heaven on the roof-garden of 50 Amherst Street, surrounded by shrubs and plants, himself sitting in their midst like a Rishi of old, the stars and planets in their courses beckoning us to things infinite and sublime, he would speak to us of the mysteries of God and His love and of the yearning that would rise in the human heArt to solve the Eternal Riddle, as exemplified in the life of his Master. The mind, melting under the influence of his soft sweet words of light, would almost transcend the frontiers of limited existence and dare to peep into the infinite. He himself would take the influence of the setting and say,'What a blessed privilege it is to sit in such a setting (pointing to the starry heavens), in the company of the devotees discoursing on God and His love!' These unforgettable scenes will long remain imprinted on the minds of his hearers." (Prabuddha Bharata Vol XXXVII P 497.)
  About twenty-seven years of his life he spent in this way in the heArt of the great city of Calcutta, radiating the Master's thoughts and ideals to countless devotees who flocked to him, and to still larger numbers who read his Kathmrita (English Edition : The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna), the last pArt of which he had completed before June 1932 and given to the press. And miraculously, as it were, his end also came immediately after he had completed his life's mission. About three months earlier he had come to stay at his home at 13/2 Gurdasprasad Chaudhuary Lane at Thakur Bari, where the Holy Mother had herself installed the Master and where His regular worship was being conducted for the previous 40 years. The night of 3rd June being the Phalahrini Kli Pooja day, M.

1.00_-_Main, #Book of Certitude, #Baha u llah, #Baha i
  O ye peoples of the world! Know assuredly that My commandments are the lamps of My loving providence among My servants, and the keys of My mercy for My creatures. Thus hath it been sent down from the heaven of the Will of your Lord, the Lord of Revelation. Were any man to taste the sweetness of the words which the lips of the All-Merciful have willed to utter, he would, though the treasures of the eArth be in his possession, renounce them one and all, that he might vindicate the truth of even one of His commandments, shining above the Dayspring of His bountiful care and loving-kindness.
  We have enjoined obligatory prayer upon you, with nine rak'ahs, to be offered at noon and in the morning and the evening unto God, the Revealer of Verses. We have relieved you of a greater number, as a command in the Book of God. He, verily, is the Ordainer, the Omnipotent, the Unrestrained. When ye desire to perform this prayer, turn ye towards the Court of My Most Holy Presence, this Hallowed Spot that God hath made the Centre round which circle the Concourse on High, and which He hath decreed to be the Point of Adoration for the denizens of the Cities of Eternity, and the Source of Command unto all that are in heaven and on eArth; and when the Sun of Truth and Utterance shall set, turn your faces towards the Spot that We have ordained for you. He, verily, is Almighty and Omniscient.
  Hair doth not invalidate your prayer, nor aught from which the spirit hath depArted, such as bones and the like. Ye are free to wear the fur of the sable as ye would that of the beaver, the squirrel, and other animals; the prohibition of its use hath stemmed, not from the Qur'an, but from the misconceptions of the divines. He, verily, is the All-Glorious, the All-Knowing.
  When travelling, if ye should stop and rest in some safe spot, perform ye-men and women alike-a single prostration in place of each unsaid Obligatory Prayer, and while prostrating say "Glorified be God, the Lord of Might and Majesty, of Grace and Bounty". Whoso is unable to do this, let him say only "Glorified be God"; this shall assuredly suffice him. He is, of a truth, the all-sufficing, the ever-abiding, the forgiving, compassionate God. Upon completing your prostrations, seat yourselves cross-legged-men and women alike-and eighteen times repeat "Glorified be God, the Lord of the kingdoms of eArth and heaven". Thus doth the Lord make plain the ways of truth and guidance, ways that lead to one way, which is this Straight Path. Render thanks unto God for this most gracious favour; offer praise unto Him for this bounty that hath encompassed the heavens and the eArth; extol Him for this mercy that hath pervaded all creation.
  We have divided inheritance into seven categories: to the children, We have allotted nine pArts comprising five hundred and forty shares; to the wife, eight pArts comprising four hundred and eighty shares; to the father, seven pArts comprising four hundred and twenty shares; to the mother, six pArts comprising three hundred and sixty shares; to the brothers, five pArts or three hundred shares; to the sisters, four pArts or two hundred and forty shares; and to the teachers, three pArts or one hundred and eighty shares. Such was the ordinance of My Forerunner, He Who extolleth My Name in the night season and at the break of day.
  Say: This is that hidden knowledge which shall never change, since its beginning is with nine, the symbol that betokeneth the concealed and manifest, the inviolable and unapproachably exalted Name. As for what We have appropriated to the children, this is a bounty conferred on them by God, that they may render thanks unto their Lord, the Compassionate, the Merciful. These, verily, are the Laws of God; transgress them not at the prompting of your base and selfish desires. Observe ye the injunctions laid upon you by Him Who is the Dawning-place of Utterance. The sincere among His servants will regard the precepts set forth by God as the Water of Life to the followers of every faith, and the Lamp of wisdom and loving providence to all the denizens of eArth and heaven.
  The Lord hath ordained that in every city a House of Justice be established wherein shall gather counsellors to the number of Baha, and should it exceed this number it doth not matter. They should consider themselves as entering the Court of the presence of God, the Exalted, the Most High, and as beholding Him Who is the Unseen. It behoveth them to be the trusted ones of the Merciful among men and to regard themselves as the guardians appointed of God for all that dwell on eArth. It is incumbent upon them to take counsel together and to have regard for the interests of the servants of God, for His sake, even as they regard their own interests, and to choose that which is meet and seemly. Thus hath the Lord your God commanded you. Beware lest ye put away that which is clearly revealed in His Tablet. Fear God, O ye that perceive.
  O people of the world! Build ye houses of worship throughout the lands in the name of Him Who is the Lord of all religions. Make them as perfect as is possible in the world of being, and adorn them with that which befitteth them, not with images and effigies. Then, with radiance and joy, celebrate therein the praise of your Lord, the Most Compassionate. Verily, by His remembrance the eye is cheered and the heArt is filled with light.
  The Lord hath ordained that those of you who are able shall make pilgrimage to the sacred House, and from this He hath exempted women as a mercy on His pArt. He, of a truth, is the All-Bountiful, the Most Generous.
  O ye servants of the Merciful One! Arise to serve the Cause of God, in such wise that the cares and sorrows caused by them that have disbelieved in the Dayspring of the Signs of God may not afflict you. At the time when the Promise was fulfilled and the Promised One made manifest, differences have appeared amongst the kindreds of the eArth and each people hath followed its own fancy and idle imaginings.
  Amongst the people is he who seateth himself amid the sandals by the door whilst coveting in his heArt the seat of honour. Say: What manner of man Art thou, O vain and heedless one, who wouldst appear as other than thou Art? And among the people is he who layeth claim to inner knowledge, and still deeper knowledge concealed within this knowledge. Say:
  Thou speakest false! By God! What thou dost possess is naught but husks which We have left to thee as bones are left to dogs. By the righteousness of the one true God! Were anyone to wash the feet of all mankind, and were he to worship God in the forests, valleys, and mountains, upon high hills and lofty peaks, to leave no rock or tree, no clod of eArth, but was a witness to his worship-yet, should the fragrance of My good pleasure not be inhaled from him, his works would never be acceptable unto God. Thus hath it been decreed by Him Who is the Lord of all. How many a man hath secluded himself in the climes of India, denied himself the things that God hath decreed as lawful, imposed upon himself austerities and mortifications, and hath not been remembered by God, the Revealer of Verses. Make not your deeds as snares wherewith to entrap the object of your aspiration, and deprive not yourselves of this Ultimate Objective for which have ever yearned all such as have drawn nigh unto God. Say: The very life of all deeds is My good pleasure, and all things depend upon Mine acceptance. Read ye the Tablets that ye may know what hath been purposed in the Books of God, the All-Glorious, the Ever-Bounteous. He who attaineth to My love hath title to a throne of gold, to sit thereon in honour over all the world; he who is deprived thereof, though he sit upon the dust, that dust would seek refuge with God, the Lord of all Religions.
  Whoso layeth claim to a Revelation direct from God, ere the expiration of a full thousand years, such a man is assuredly a lying impostor. We pray God that He may graciously assist him to retract and repudiate such claim. Should he repent, God will, no doubt, forgive him. If, however, he persisteth in his error, God will, assuredly, send down one who will deal mercilessly with him. Terrible, indeed, is God in punishing! Whosoever interpreteth this verse otherwise than its obvious meaning is deprived of the Spirit of God and of His mercy which encompasseth all created things. Fear God, and follow not your idle fancies. Nay, rather, follow the bidding of your Lord, the Almighty, the All-Wise. Erelong shall clamorous voices be raised in most lands. Shun them, O My people, and follow not the iniquitous and evil-heArted. This is that of which We gave you forewarning when We were dwelling in Iraq, then later while in the Land of Mystery, and now from this Resplendent Spot.
  Be not dismayed, O peoples of the world, when the day-star of My beauty is set, and the heaven of My tabernacle is concealed from your eyes. Arise to further My Cause, and to exalt My Word amongst men. We are with you at all times, and shall strengthen you through the power of truth. We are truly almighty. Whoso hath recognized Me will arise and serve Me with such determination that the powers of eArth and heaven shall be unable to defeat his purpose.
  The peoples of the world are fast asleep. Were they to wake from their slumber, they would hasten with eagerness unto God, the All-Knowing, the All-Wise. They would cast away everything they possess, be it all the treasures of the eArth, that their Lord may remember them to the extent of addressing to them but one word. Such is the instruction given you by Him Who holdeth the knowledge of things hidden, in a Tablet which the eye of creation hath not seen, and which is revealed to none except His own Self, the omnipotent Protector of all worlds. So bewildered are they in the drunkenness of their evil desires, that they are powerless to recognize the Lord of all being, Whose voice calleth aloud from every direction: "There is none other God but Me, the Mighty, the All-Wise."
  What hath become of your bygone days, your lost centuries? Happy the days that have been consecrated to the remembrance of God, and blessed the hours which have been spent in praise of Him Who is the All-Wise. By My life! Neither the pomp of the mighty, nor the wealth of the rich, nor even the ascendancy of the ungodly will endure. All will perish, at a word from Him. He, verily, is the All-Powerful, the All-Compelling, the Almighty. What advantage is there in the eArthly things which men possess? That which shall profit them, they have utterly neglected. Erelong, they will awake from their slumber, and find themselves unable to obtain that which hath escaped them in the days of their Lord, the Almighty, the All-Praised. Did they but know it, they would renounce their all, that their names may be mentioned before His throne.
  Endowments dedicated to charity revert to God, the Revealer of Signs. None hath the right to dispose of them without leave from Him Who is the Dawning-place of Revelation. After Him, this authority shall pass to the Aghsan, and after them to the House of Justice-should it be established in the world by then-that they may use these endowments for the benefit of the Places which have been exalted in this Cause, and for whatsoever hath been enjoined upon them by Him Who is the God of might and power. Otherwise, the endowments shall revert to the people of Baha who speak not except by His leave and judge not save in accordance with what God hath decreed in this Tablet-lo, they are the champions of victory betwixt heaven and eArth-that they may use them in the manner that hath been laid down in the Book by God, the Mighty, the Bountiful.
  Whoso wisheth to make use of vessels of silver and gold is at liberty to do so. Take heed lest, when pArtaking of food, ye plunge your hands into the contents of bowls and platters. Adopt ye such usages as are most in keeping with refinement. He, verily, desireth to see in you the manners of the inmates of Paradise in His mighty and most sublime Kingdom. Hold ye fast unto refinement under all conditions, that your eyes may be preserved from beholding what is repugnant both to your own selves and to the dwellers of Paradise. Should anyone depArt therefrom, his deed shall at that moment be rendered vain; yet should he have good reason, God will excuse him. He, in truth, is the Gracious, the Most Bountiful.
  He Who is the Dawning-place of God's Cause hath no pArtner in the Most Great Infallibility. He it is Who, in the kingdom of creation, is the Manifestation of "He doeth whatsoever He willeth". God hath reserved this distinction unto His own Self, and ordained for none a share in so sublime and transcendent a station. This is the Decree of God, concealed ere now within the veil of impenetrable mystery. We have disclosed it in this Revelation, and have thereby rent asunder the veils of such as have failed to recognize that which the Book of God set forth and who were numbered with the heedless.
  Unto every father hath been enjoined the instruction of his son and daughter in the Art of reading and writing and in all that hath been laid down in the Holy Tablet. He that putteth away that which is commanded unto him, the Trustees are then to take from him that which is required for their instruction if he be wealthy and, if not, the matter devolveth upon the House of Justice. Verily have We made it a shelter for the poor and needy. He that bringeth up his son or the son of another, it is as though he hath brought up a son of Mine; upon him rest My glory, My loving-kindness, My mercy, that have compassed the world.
  Beware lest ye be hindered by the veils of glory from pArtaking of the crystal waters of this living Fountain. Seize ye the chalice of salvation at this dawntide in the name of Him Who causeth the day to break, and drink your fill in praise of Him Who is the All-Glorious, the Incomparable.
  We have made it lawful for you to listen to music and singing. Take heed, however, lest listening thereto should cause you to overstep the bounds of propriety and dignity. Let your joy be the joy born of My Most Great Name, a Name that bringeth rapture to the heArt, and filleth with ecstasy the minds of all who have drawn nigh unto God. We, verily, have made music as a ladder for your souls, a means whereby they may be lifted up unto the realm on high; make it not, therefore, as wings to self and passion. Truly, We are loath to see you numbered with the foolish.
  We have decreed that a third pArt of all fines shall go to the Seat of Justice, and We admonish its men to observe pure justice, that they may expend what is thus accumulated for such purposes as have been enjoined upon them by Him Who is the All-Knowing, the All-Wise. O ye Men of Justice! Be ye, in the realm of God, shepherds unto His sheep and guard them from the ravening wolves that have appeared in disguise, even as ye would guard your own sons. Thus exhorteth you the Counsellor, the Faithful.
  Let not your heArts be perturbed, O people, when the glory of My Presence is withdrawn, and the ocean of My utterance is stilled. In My presence amongst you there is a wisdom, and in My absence there is yet another, inscrutable to all but God, the Incomparable, the All-Knowing. Verily, We behold you from Our realm of glory, and shall aid whosoever will arise for the triumph of Our Cause with the hosts of the Concourse on high and a company of Our favoured angels.
  O peoples of the eArth! God, the Eternal Truth, is My witness that streams of fresh and soft-flowing waters have gushed from the rocks through the sweetness of the words uttered by your Lord, the Unconstrained; and still ye slumber. Cast away that which ye possess, and, on the wings of detachment, soar beyond all created things. Thus biddeth you the Lord of creation, the movement of Whose Pen hath revolutionized the soul of mankind.
  Know ye from what heights your Lord, the All-Glorious, is calling? Think ye that ye have recognized the Pen wherewith your Lord, the Lord of all names, commandeth you? Nay, by My life! Did ye but know it, ye would renounce the world, and would hasten with your whole heArts to the presence of the Well-Beloved.
  The penalties for wounding or striking a person depend upon the severity of the injury; for each degree the Lord of Judgement hath prescribed a certain indemnity. He is, in truth, the Ordainer, the Mighty, the Most Exalted. We shall, if it be Our Will, set forth these payments in their just degrees-this is a promise on Our pArt, and He, verily, is the Keeper of His pledge, the Knower of all things.
  Verily, it is enjoined upon you to offer a feast, once in every month, though only water be served; for God hath purposed to bind heArts together, albeit through both eArthly and heavenly means.
  God hath prescribed matrimony unto you. Beware that ye take not unto yourselves more wives than two. Whoso contenteth himself with a single pArtner from among the maidservants of God, both he and she shall live in tranquillity. And he who would take into his service a maid may do so with propriety. Such is the ordinance which, in truth and justice, hath been recorded by the Pen of Revelation. Enter into wedlock, O people, that ye may bring forth one who will make mention of Me amid My servants. This is My bidding unto you; hold fast to it as an assistance to yourselves.
  It hath been laid down in the Bayan that marriage is dependent upon the consent of both pArties. Desiring to establish love, unity and harmony amidst Our servants, We have conditioned it, once the couple's wish is known, upon the permission of their parents, lest enmity and rancour should arise amongst them. And in this We have yet other purposes. Thus hath Our commandment been ordained.
  No marriage may be contracted without payment of a dowry, which hath been fixed for city-dwellers at nineteen mithqals of pure gold, and for village-dwellers at the same amount in silver. Whoso wisheth to increase this sum, it is forbidden him to exceed the limit of ninety-five mithqals. Thus hath the command been writ in majesty and power. If he content himself, however, with a payment of the lowest level, it shall be better for him according to the Book. God, verily, enricheth whomsoever He willeth through both heavenly and eArthly means, and He, in truth, hath power over all things.
  Should resentment or antipathy arise between husband and wife, he is not to divorce her but to bide in patience throughout the course of one whole year, that perchance the fragrance of affection may be renewed between them. If, upon the completion of this period, their love hath not returned, it is permissible for divorce to take place. God's wisdom, verily, hath encompassed all things. The Lord hath prohibited, in a Tablet inscribed by the Pen of His command, the practice to which ye formerly had recourse when thrice ye had divorced a woman. This He hath done as a favour on His pArt, that ye may be accounted among the thankful. He who hath divorced his wife may choose, upon the passing of each month, to remarry her when there is mutual affection and consent, so long as she hath not taken another husband. Should she have wed again, then, by this other union, the separation is confirmed and the matter is concluded unless, clearly, her circumstances change. Thus hath the decree been inscribed with majesty in this glorious Tablet by Him Who is the Dawning-place of Beauty.
  If the wife accompany her husband on a journey, and differences arise between them on the way, he is required to provide her with her expenses for one whole year, and either to return her whence she came or to entrust her, together with the necessaries for her journey, to a dependable person who is to escort her home. Thy Lord, verily, ordaineth as He pleaseth, by virtue of a sovereignty that overshadoweth the peoples of the eArth.
  Should a woman be divorced in consequence of a proven act of infidelity, she shall receive no maintenance during her period of waiting. Thus hath the day-star of Our commandment shone forth resplendent from the firmament of justice. Truly, the Lord loveth union and harmony and abhorreth separation and divorce. Live ye one with another, O people, in radiance and joy. By My life! All that are on eArth shall pass away, while good deeds alone shall endure; to the truth of My words God doth Himself bear witness. Compose your differences, O My servants; then heed ye the admonition of Our Pen of Glory and follow not the arrogant and wayward.
  O kings of the eArth! He Who is the sovereign Lord of all is come. The Kingdom is God's, the omnipotent Protector, the Self-Subsisting. Worship none but God, and, with radiant heArts, lift up your faces unto your Lord, the Lord of all names. This is a Revelation to which whatever ye possess can never be compared, could ye but know it.
  We see you rejoicing in that which ye have amassed for others and shutting out yourselves from the worlds which naught except My guarded Tablet can reckon. The treasures ye have laid up have drawn you far away from your ultimate objective. This ill beseemeth you, could ye but understand it. Wash from your heArts all eArthly defilements, and hasten to enter the Kingdom of your Lord, the Creator of eArth and heaven, Who caused the world to tremble and all its peoples to wail, except them that have renounced all things and clung to that which the Hidden Tablet hath ordained.
  This is the Day in which He Who held converse with God hath attained the light of the Ancient of Days, and quaffed the pure waters of reunion from this Cup that hath caused the seas to swell. Say: By the one true God! Sinai is circling round the Dayspring of Revelation, while from the heights of the Kingdom the Voice of the Spirit of God is heard proclaiming: "Bestir yourselves, ye proud ones of the eArth, and hasten ye unto Him." Carmel hath, in this Day, hastened in longing adoration to attain His court, whilst from the heArt of Zion there cometh the cry: "The promise is fulfilled. That which had been announced in the holy Writ of God, the Most Exalted, the Almighty, the Best-Beloved, is made manifest."
  O kings of the eArth! The Most Great Law hath been revealed in this Spot, this scene of transcendent splendour. Every hidden thing hath been brought to light by virtue of the Will of the Supreme Ordainer, He Who hath ushered in the Last Hour, through Whom the Moon hath been cleft, and every irrevocable decree expounded.
  Ye are but vassals, O kings of the eArth! He Who is the King of Kings hath appeared, arrayed in His most wondrous glory, and is summoning you unto Himself, the Help in Peril, the Self-Subsisting. Take heed lest pride deter you from recognizing the Source of Revelation, lest the things of this world shut you out as by a veil from Him Who is the Creator of heaven. Arise, and serve Him Who is the Desire of all nations, Who hath created you through a word from Him, and ordained you to be, for all time, the emblems of His sovereignty.
  By the righteousness of God! It is not Our wish to lay hands on your kingdoms. Our mission is to seize and possess the heArts of men. Upon them the eyes of Baha are fastened. To this testifieth the Kingdom of Names, could ye but comprehend it. Whoso followeth his Lord will renounce the world and all that is therein;
   how much greater, then, must be the detachment of Him Who holdeth so august a station! Forsake your palaces, and haste ye to gain admittance into His Kingdom. This, indeed, will profit you both in this world and in the next. To this testifieth the Lord of the realm on high, did ye but know it.
  Say: O King of Berlin! Give ear unto the Voice calling from this manifest Temple: "Verily, there is none other God but Me, the Everlasting, the Peerless, the Ancient of Days." Take heed lest pride debar thee from recognizing the Dayspring of Divine Revelation, lest eArthly desires shut thee out, as by a veil, from the Lord of the Throne above and of the eArth below. Thus counselleth thee the Pen of the Most High. He, verily, is the Most Gracious, the All-Bountiful. Do thou remember the one (Napoleon III) whose power transcended thy power, and whose station excelled thy station. Where is he? Whither are gone the things he possessed? Take warning, and be not of them that are fast asleep. He it was who cast the Tablet of God behind him when We made known unto him what the hosts of tyranny had caused Us to suffer. Wherefore, disgrace assailed him from all sides, and he went down to dust in great loss. Think deeply, O King, concerning him, and concerning them who, like unto thee, have conquered cities and ruled over men. The All-Merciful brought them down from their palaces to their graves. Be warned, be of them who reflect.
  O people of Constantinople! Lo, from your midst We hear the baleful hooting of the owl. Hath the drunkenness of passion laid hold upon you, or is it that ye are sunk in heedlessness? O Spot that Art situate on the shores of the two seas! The throne of tyranny hath, verily, been established upon thee, and the flame of hatred hath been kindled within thy bosom, in such wise that the Concourse on high and they who circle around the Exalted Throne have wailed and lamented. We behold in thee the foolish ruling over the wise, and darkness vaunting itself against the light. Thou Art indeed filled with manifest pride. Hath thine outward splendour made thee vainglorious? By Him Who is the Lord of mankind! It shall soon perish, and thy daughters and thy widows and all the kindreds that dwell within thee shall lament. Thus informeth thee the All-Knowing, the All-Wise.
  Rejoice with great joy, for God hath made thee Tihran "the Dayspring of His light", inasmuch as within thee was born the Manifestation of His Glory. Be thou glad for this name that hath been conferred upon thee-a name through which the Day-Star of grace hath shed its splendour, through which both eArth and heaven have been illumined.
  None must contend with those who wield authority over the people; leave unto them that which is theirs, and direct your attention to men's heArts.
  O Most Mighty Ocean! Sprinkle upon the nations that with which Thou hast been charged by Him Who is the Sovereign of Eternity, and adorn the temples of all the dwellers of the eArth with the vesture of His laws +F1 Khurasan through which all heArts will rejoice and all eyes be brightened.
  Should anyone acquire one hundred mithqals of gold, nineteen mithqals thereof are God's and to be rendered unto Him, the Fashioner of eArth and heaven. Take heed, O people, lest ye deprive yourselves of so great a bounty. This We have commanded you, though We are well able to dispense with you and with all who are in the heavens and on eArth; in it there are benefits and wisdoms beyond the ken of anyone but God, the Omniscient, the All-Informed. Say: By this means He hath desired to purify what ye possess and to enable you to draw nigh unto such stations as none can comprehend save those whom God hath willed. He, in truth, is the Beneficent, the Gracious, the Bountiful. O people! Deal not faithlessly with the Right of God, nor, without His leave, make free with its disposal. Thus hath His commandment been established in the holy Tablets, and in this exalted Book. He who dealeth faithlessly with God shall in justice meet with faithlessness himself; he, however, who acteth in accordance with God's bidding shall receive a blessing from the heaven of the bounty of his Lord, the Gracious, the Bestower, the Generous, the Ancient of Days. He, verily, hath willed for you that which is yet beyond your knowledge, but which shall be known to you when, after this fleeting life, your souls soar heavenwards and the trappings of your eArthly joys are folded up. Thus admonisheth you He in Whose possession is the Guarded Tablet.
  Similar requests had been made of Us over several previous years but We had, in Our wisdom, withheld Our Pen until, in recent days, letters arrived from a number of the friends, and We have therefore responded, through the power of truth, with that which shall quicken the heArts of men.
  Say: O leaders of religion! Weigh not the Book of God with such standards and sciences as are current amongst you, for the Book itself is the unerring Balance established amongst men. In this most perfect Balance whatsoever the peoples and kindreds of the eArth possess must be weighed, while the measure of its weight should be tested according to its own standard, did ye but know it.
  The eye of My loving-kindness weepeth sore over you, inasmuch as ye have failed to recognize the One upon Whom ye have been calling in the daytime and in the night season, at even and at morn. Advance, O people, with snow-white faces and radiant heArts, unto the blest and crimson Spot, wherein the Sadratu'l-Muntaha is calling: "Verily, there is none other God beside Me, the Omnipotent Protector, the Self-Subsisting!"
  O ye leaders of religion! Who is the man amongst you that can rival Me in vision or insight? Where is he to be found that dareth to claim to be My equal in utterance or wisdom? No, by My Lord, the All-Merciful! All on the eArth shall pass away; and this is the face of your Lord, the Almighty, the Well-Beloved.
  We have not entered any school, nor read any of your dissertations. Incline your ears to the words of this unlettered One, wherewith He summoneth you unto God, the Ever-Abiding. Better is this for you than all the treasures of the eArth, could ye but comprehend it.
  It hath been enjoined upon you to pare your nails, to bathe yourselves each week in water that covereth your bodies, and to clean yourselves with whatsoever ye have formerly employed. Take heed lest through negligence ye fail to observe that which hath been prescribed unto you by Him Who is the Incomparable, the Gracious. Immerse yourselves in clean water; it is not permissible to bathe yourselves in water that hath already been used. See that ye approach not the public pools of Persian baths; whoso maketh his way toward such baths will smell their fetid odour ere he entereth therein. Shun them, O people, and be not of those who ignominiously accept such vileness. In truth, they are as sinks of foulness and contamination, if ye be of them that apprehend. Avoid ye likewise the malodorous pools in the courtyards of Persian homes, and be ye of the pure and sanctified. Truly, We desire to behold you as manifestations of paradise on eArth, that there may be diffused from you such fragrance as shall rejoice the heArts of the favoured of God. If the bather, instead of entering the water, wash himself by pouring it upon his body, it shall be better for him and shall absolve him of the need for bodily immersion. The Lord, verily, hath willed, as a bounty from His presence, to make life easier for you that ye may be of those who are truly thankful.
  All Feasts have attained their consummation in the two Most Great Festivals, and in the two other Festivals that fall on the twin days-the first of the Most Great Festivals being those days whereon the All-Merciful shed upon the whole of creation the effulgent glory of His most excellent Names and His most exalted Attributes, and the second being that day on which We raised up the One Who announced unto mankind the glad tidings of this Name, through which the dead have been resurrected and all who are in the heavens and on eArth have been gathered together.
  They who recite the verses of the All-Merciful in the most melodious of tones will perceive in them that with which the sovereignty of eArth and heaven can never be compared. From them they will inhale the divine fragrance of My worlds-worlds which today none can discern save those who have been endowed with vision through this sublime, this beauteous Revelation. Say: These verses draw heArts that are pure unto those spiritual worlds that can neither be expressed in words nor intimated by allusion. Blessed be those who hearken.
  Assist ye, O My people, My chosen servants who have arisen to make mention of Me among My creatures and to exalt My Word throughout My realm. These, truly, are the stars of the heaven of My loving providence and the lamps of My guidance unto all mankind. But he whose words conflict with that which hath been sent down in My Holy Tablets is not of Me. Beware lest ye follow any impious pretender. These Tablets are embellished with the seal of Him Who causeth the dawn to appear, Who lifteth up His voice between the heavens and the eArth. Lay hold on this Sure Handle and on the Cord of My mighty and unassailable Cause.
  The Lord hath granted leave to whosoever desireth it that he be instructed in the divers tongues of the world that he may deliver the Message of the Cause of God throughout the East and throughout the West, that he make mention of Him amidst the kindreds and peoples of the world in such wise that heArts may revive and the mouldering bone be quickened.
  Adorn your heads with the garlands of trustworthiness and fidelity, your heArts with the attire of the fear of God, your tongues with absolute truthfulness, your bodies with the vesture of courtesy. These are in truth seemly adornings unto the temple of man, if ye be of them that reflect. Cling, O ye people of Baha, to the cord of servitude unto God, the True One, for thereby your stations shall be made manifest, your names written and preserved, your ranks raised and your memory exalted in the Preserved Tablet. Beware lest the dwellers on eArth hinder you from this glorious and exalted station. Thus have We exhorted you in most of Our Epistles and now in this, Our Holy Tablet, above which hath beamed the Day-Star of the Laws of the Lord, your God, the Powerful, the All-Wise.
  Say: True liberty consisteth in man's submission unto My commandments, little as ye know it. Were men to observe that which We have sent down unto them from the Heaven of Revelation, they would, of a certainty, attain unto perfect liberty. Happy is the man that hath apprehended the Purpose of God in whatever He hath revealed from the Heaven of His Will that pervadeth all created things. Say: The liberty that profiteth you is to be found nowhere except in complete servitude unto God, the Eternal Truth. Whoso hath tasted of its sweetness will refuse to bArter it for all the dominion of eArth and heaven.
  In the Bayan it had been forbidden you to ask Us questions. The Lord hath now relieved you of this prohibition, that ye may be free to ask what you need to ask, but not such idle questions as those on which the men of former times were wont to dwell. Fear God, and be ye of the righteous! Ask ye that which shall be of profit to you in the Cause of God and His dominion, for the portals of His tender compassion have been opened before all who dwell in heaven and on eArth.
  The inscription on these rings should read, for men: "Unto God belongeth all that is in the heavens and on the eArth and whatsoever is between them, and He, in truth, hath knowledge of all things"; and for women: "Unto God belongeth the dominion of the heavens and the eArth and whatsoever is between them, and He, in truth, is potent over all things". These are the verses that were revealed aforetime, but lo, the Point of the Bayan now calleth out, exclaiming, "O Best-Beloved of the worlds! Reveal Thou in their stead such words as will waft the fragrance of Thy gracious favours over all mankind. We have announced unto everyone that one single word from Thee excelleth all that hath been sent down in the Bayan. Thou, indeed, hast power to do what pleaseth Thee. Deprive not Thy servants of the overflowing bounties of the ocean of Thy mercy! Thou, in truth, Art He Whose grace is infinite." Behold, We have hearkened to His call, and now fulfil His wish. He, verily, is the Best-Beloved, the Answerer of prayers. If the following verse, which hath at this moment been sent down by God, be engraved upon the burial-rings of both men and women, it shall be better for them; We, of a certainty, are the Supreme Ordainer: "I came forth from God, and return unto Him, detached from all save Him, holding fast to His Name, the Merciful, the Compassionate." Thus doth the Lord single out whomsoever He desireth for a bounty from His presence. He is, in very truth, the God of might and power.
  Raise up and exalt the two Houses in the Twin Hallowed Spots, and the other sites wherein the throne of your Lord, the All-Merciful, hath been established. Thus commandeth you the Lord of every understanding heArt.
  Such are the words with which My Forerunner hath extolled My Being, could ye but understand. Whoso reflecteth upon these verses, and realizeth what hidden pearls have been enshrined within them, will, by the righteousness of God, perceive the fragrance of the All-Merciful wafting from the direction of this Prison and will, with his whole heArt, hasten unto Him with such ardent longing that the hosts of eArth and heaven would be powerless to deter him. Say: This is a Revelation around which every proof and testimony doth circle. Thus hath it been sent down by your Lord, the God of Mercy, if ye be of them that judge aright. Say: This is the very soul of all Scriptures which hath been breathed into the Pen of the Most High, causing all created beings to be dumbfounded, save only those who have been enraptured by the gentle breezes of My loving-kindness and the sweet savours of My bounties which have pervaded the whole of creation.
  Let none, in this Day, hold fast to aught save that which hath been manifested in this Revelation. Such is the decree of God, aforetime and hereafter-a decree wherewith the Scriptures of the Messengers of old have been adorned. Such is the admonition of the Lord, aforetime and hereafter-an admonition wherewith the preamble to the Book of Life hath been embellished, did ye but perceive it. Such is the commandment of the Lord, aforetime and hereafter; beware lest ye choose instead the pArt of ignominy and abasement. Naught shall avail you in this Day but God, nor is there any refuge to flee to save Him, the Omniscient, the All-Wise. Whoso hath known Me hath known the Goal of all desire, and whoso hath turned unto Me hath turned unto the Object of all adoration. Thus hath it been set forth in the Book, and thus hath it been decreed by God, the Lord of all worlds. To read but one of the verses of My Revelation is better than to peruse the Scriptures of both the former and latter generations. This is the Utterance of the All-Merciful, would that ye had ears to hear! Say: This is the essence of knowledge, did ye but understand.
  And now consider what hath been revealed in yet another passage, that perchance ye may forsake your own concepts and set your faces towards God, the Lord of being. He+F1 hath said: "It is unlawful to enter into marriage save with a believer in the Bayan. Should only one pArty to a marriage embrace this Cause, his or her possessions will become unlawful to the other, until such time as the latter hath converted. This law, +F1 The Bab however, will only take effect after the exaltation of the Cause of Him Whom We shall manifest in truth, or of that which hath already been made manifest in justice. Ere this, ye are at liberty to enter into wedlock as ye wish, that haply by this means ye may exalt the Cause of God." Thus hath the Nightingale sung with sweet melody upon the celestial bough, in praise of its Lord, the All-Merciful. Well is it with them that hearken.
  Ye have been forbidden in the Book of God to engage in contention and conflict, to strike another, or to commit similar acts whereby heArts and souls may be saddened. A fine of nineteen mithqals of gold had formerly been prescribed by Him Who is the Lord of all mankind for anyone who was the cause of sadness to another; in this Dispensation, however, He hath absolved you thereof and exhorteth you to show forth righteousness and piety. Such is the commandment which He hath enjoined upon you in this resplendent Tablet. Wish not for others what ye wish not for yourselves; fear God, and be not of the prideful. Ye are all created out of water, and unto dust shall ye return. Reflect upon the end that awaiteth you, and walk not in the ways of the oppressor. Give ear unto the verses of God which He Who is the sacred Lote-Tree reciteth unto you. They are assuredly the infallible balance, established by God, the Lord of this world and the next. Through them the soul of man is caused to wing its flight towards the Dayspring of Revelation, and the heArt of every true believer is suffused with light. Such are the laws which God hath enjoined upon you, such His commandments prescribed unto you in His Holy Tablet; obey them with joy and gladness, for this is best for you, did ye but know.
  Whoever hath been transported by the rapture born of adoration for My Name, the Most Compassionate, will recite the verses of God in such wise as to captivate the heArts of those yet wrapped in slumber. Well is it with him who hath quaffed the Mystic Wine of everlasting life from the utterance of his merciful Lord in My Name-a Name through which every lofty and majestic mountain hath been reduced to dust.
  "All praise be to Thee, O Thou the Desire of the worlds!" In truth, it is in the hand of God to give what He willeth to whomsoever He willeth, and to withhold what He pleaseth from whomsoever He may wish. He knoweth the inner secrets of the heArts and the meaning hidden in a mocker's wink. How many an embodiment of heedlessness who came unto Us with purity of heArt have We established upon the seat of Our acceptance; and how many an exponent of wisdom have We in all justice consigned to the fire. We are, in truth, the One to judge. He it is Who is the manifestation of "God doeth whatsoever He pleaseth", and abideth upon the throne of "He ordaineth whatsoever He chooseth".
  Blessed is the one who discovereth the fragrance of inner meanings from the traces of this Pen through whose movement the breezes of God are wafted over the entire creation, and through whose stillness the very essence of tranquillity appeareth in the realm of being. Glorified be the All-Merciful, the Revealer of so inestimable a bounty. Say: Because He bore injustice, justice hath appeared on eArth, and because He accepted abasement, the majesty of God hath shone forth amidst mankind.
  It hath been forbidden you to carry arms unless essential, and permitted you to attire yourselves in silk. The Lord hath relieved you, as a bounty on His pArt, of the restrictions that formerly applied to clothing and to the trim of the beard. He, verily, is the Ordainer, the Omniscient. Let there be naught in your demeanour of which sound and upright minds would disapprove, and make not yourselves the playthings of the ignorant. Well is it with him who hath adorned himself with the vesture of seemly conduct and a praiseworthy character. He is assuredly reckoned with those who aid their Lord through distinctive and outstanding deeds.
  Promote ye the development of the cities of God and His countries, and glorify Him therein in the joyous accents of His well-favoured ones. In truth, the heArts of men are edified through the power of the tongue, even as houses and cities are built up by the hand and other means. We have assigned to every end a means for its accomplishment; avail yourselves thereof, and place your trust and confidence in God, the Omniscient, the All-Wise.
  Beware lest any name debar you from Him Who is the Possessor of all names, or any word shut you out from this Remembrance of God, this Source of Wisdom amongst you. Turn unto God and seek His protection, O concourse of divines, and make not of yourselves a veil between Me and My creatures. Thus doth your Lord admonish you, and command you to be just, lest your works should come to naught and ye yourselves be oblivious of your plight. Shall he who denieth this Cause be able to vindicate the truth of any cause throughout creation? Nay, by Him Who is the Fashioner of the universe! Yet the people are wrapped in a palpable veil. Say: Through this Cause the day-star of testimony hath dawned, and the luminary of proof hath shed its radiance upon all that dwell on eArth. Fear God, O men of insight, and be not of those who disbelieve in Me. Take heed lest the word "Prophet" withhold you from this Most Great Announcement, or any reference to "Vicegerency" debar you from the sovereignty of Him Who is the Vicegerent of God, which overshadoweth all the worlds. Every name hath been created by His Word, and every cause is dependent on His irresistible, His mighty and wondrous Cause. Say: This is the Day of God, the Day on which naught shall be mentioned save His own Self, the omnipotent Protector of all worlds. This is the Cause that hath made all your superstitions and idols to tremble.
  We, verily, see amongst you him who taketh hold of the Book of God and citeth from it proofs and arguments wherewith to repudiate his Lord, even as the followers of every other Faith sought reasons in their Holy Books for refuting Him Who is the Help in Peril, the Self-Subsisting. Say: God, the True One, is My witness that neither the Scriptures of the world, nor all the books and writings in existence, shall, in this Day, avail you aught without this, the Living Book, Who proclaimeth in the midmost heArt of creation: "Verily, there is none other God but Me, the All-Knowing, the All-Wise."
  O concourse of divines! Beware lest ye be the cause of strife in the land, even as ye were the cause of the repudiation of the Faith in its early days. Gather the people around this Word that hath made the pebbles to cry out: "The Kingdom is God's, the Dawning-place of all signs!" Thus doth your Lord admonish you, as a bounty on His pArt; He, of a truth, is the Ever-Forgiving, the Most Generous.
  Call ye to mind Karim, and how, when We summoned him unto God, he waxed disdainful, prompted by his own desires; yet We had sent him that which was a solace to the eye of proof in the world of being and the fulfilment of God's testimony to all the denizens of eArth and heaven. As a token of the grace of Him Who is the All-Possessing, the Most High, We bade him embrace the Truth. But he turned away until, as an act of justice from God, angels of wrath laid hold upon him. Unto this We truly were a witness.
  We, of a certainty, have had no purpose in this eArthly realm save to make God manifest and to reveal His sovereignty; sufficient unto Me is God for a witness. We, of a certainty, have had no intent in the celestial Kingdom but to exalt His Cause and glorify His praise; sufficient unto Me is God for a protector. We, of a certainty, have had no desire in the Dominion on high except to extol God and what hath been sent down by Him; sufficient unto Me is God for a helper.
  Happy are ye, O ye the learned ones in Baha. By the Lord! Ye are the billows of the Most Mighty Ocean, the stars of the firmament of Glory, the standards of triumph waving betwixt eArth and heaven. Ye are the manifestations of steadfastness amidst men and the daysprings of Divine Utterance to all that dwell on eArth. Well is it with him that turneth unto you, and woe betide the froward. This day, it behoveth whoso hath quaffed the Mystic Wine of everlasting life from the Hands of the loving-kindness of the Lord his God, the Merciful, to pulsate even as the throbbing Artery in the body of mankind, that through him may be quickened the world and every crumbling bone.
  O Pen of the Most High! Move Thou upon the Tablet at the bidding of Thy Lord, the Creator of the Heavens, and tell of the time when He Who is the Dayspring of Divine Unity purposed to direct His steps towards the School of Transcendent Oneness; haply the pure in heArt may gain thereby a glimpse, be it as small as a needle's eye, of the mysteries of Thy Lord, the Almighty, the Omniscient, that lie concealed behind the veils. Say: We, indeed, set foot within the School of inner meaning and explanation when all created things were unaware. We saw the words sent down by Him Who is the All-Merciful, and We accepted the verses of God, the Help in Peril, the Self-Subsisting, which He+F1 presented unto Us, and hearkened unto that which He had solemnly affirmed in the Tablet. This we assuredly did behold. And We assented to His wish through Our behest, for truly We are potent to command.
  Take heed that ye dispute not idly concerning the Almighty and His Cause, for lo! He hath appeared amongst you invested with a Revelation so great as to encompass all things, whether of the past or of the future. Were We to address Our theme by speaking in the language of the inmates of the Kingdom, We would say: "In truth, God created that School ere He created heaven and eArth, and We entered it before the letters B and E were joined and knit together." Such is the language of Our servants in Our Kingdom; consider what the tongue of the dwellers of Our exalted Dominion would utter, for We have taught them Our knowledge and have revealed to them whatever had lain hidden in God's wisdom. Imagine then what the Tongue of Might and Grandeur would utter in His All-Glorious Abode!
  This is not a Cause which may be made a plaything for your idle fancies, nor is it a field for the foolish and faint of heArt. By God, this is the arena of insight and detachment, of vision and upliftment, where none may spur on their chargers save the valiant horsemen of the Merciful, who have severed all attachment to the world of being. These, truly, are they that render God victorious on eArth, and are the dawning-places of His sovereign might amidst mankind.
  Beware lest aught that hath been revealed in the Bayan should keep you from your Lord, the Most Compassionate. God is My witness that the Bayan was sent down for no other purpose than to celebrate My praise, did ye but know! In it the pure in heArt will find only the fragrance of My love, only My Name that overshadoweth all that seeth and is seen. Say: Turn ye, O people, unto that which hath proceeded from My Most Exalted Pen. Should ye inhale therefrom the fragrance of God, set not yourselves against Him, nor deny yourselves a portion of His gracious favour and His manifold bestowals. Thus doth your Lord admonish you; He, verily, is the Counsellor, the Omniscient.
  Say: This is the infallible Balance which the Hand of God is holding, in which all who are in the heavens and all who are on the eArth are weighed, and their fate determined, if ye be of them that believe and recognize this truth. Say: This is the Most Great Testimony, by which the validity of every proof throughout the ages hath been established, would that ye might be assured thereof. Say: Through it the poor have been enriched, the learned enlightened, and the seekers enabled to ascend unto the presence of God. Beware lest ye make it a cause of dissension amongst you. Be ye as firmly settled as the immovable mountain in the Cause of your Lord, the Mighty, the Loving.
  Say: O source of perversion! Abandon thy wilful blindness, and speak forth the truth amidst the people. I swear by God that I have wept for thee to see thee following thy selfish passions and renouncing Him Who fashioned thee and brought thee into being. Call to mind the tender mercy of thy Lord, and remember how We nurtured thee by day and by night for service to the Cause. Fear God, and be thou of the truly repentant. Granted that the people were confused about thy station, is it conceivable that thou thyself Art similarly confused? Tremble before thy Lord and recall the days when thou didst stand before Our throne, and didst write down the verses that We dictated unto
   thee-verses sent down by God, the Omnipotent Protector, the Lord of might and power. Beware lest the fire of thy presumptuousness debar thee from attaining to God's Holy Court. Turn unto Him, and fear not because of thy deeds. He, in truth, forgiveth whomsoever He desireth as a bounty on His pArt; no God is there but Him, the Ever-Forgiving, the All-Bounteous.
  This is a Book which hath become the Lamp of the Eternal unto the world, and His straight, undeviating Path amidst the peoples of the eArth. Say: This is the Dayspring of Divine knowledge, if ye be of them that understand, and the Dawning-place of God's commandments, if ye be of those who comprehend.
  O members of parliaments throughout the world! Select ye a single language for the use of all on eArth, and adopt ye likewise a common script. God, verily, maketh plain for you that which shall profit you and enable you to be independent of others. He, of a truth, is the Most Bountiful, the All-Knowing, the All-Informed.
  It hath been forbidden you to smoke opium. We, truly, have prohibited this practice through a most binding interdiction in the Book. Should anyone pArtake thereof, assuredly he is not of Me. Fear God, O ye endued with understanding!

1.00_-_Preface, #A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah, #Israel Regardie, #Occultism
  This book goes forth then in the hope that, as a modern writer has put it:
    "There are not many, those who have no secret garden of the mind. For this garden alone can give refreshment when life is barren of peace or sustenance or satisfactory answer. Such sanctuaries may be reached by a certain philosophy or faith, by the guidance of a beloved author or an understanding friend, by way of the temples of music and Art, or by groping after truth through the vast kingdoms of knowledge. They encompass almost always truth and beauty, and are radiant with the light that never was on sea or land."
  I am greatly indebted to Madame H. P. Blavatsky's writings, and I believe I shall not be too egotistical in claiming that a proper understanding of the principles outlined herein will reveal many points of subtlety and philosophic interest in her Secret Doctrine , and aid in the comprehension of this monumental work of hers. The same is also true of S. L. McGregor Mathers' translation of portions of the Zohar, " The Kaballah Unveiled ", and of Arthur E. Waite's excellent compendium of the Zohar, " The Secret Doctrine in Israel ", both of which are closed books, in the main, to most students of mystical lore and philosophy who do not have the specialized comparative knowledge which I have endeavoured to incorporate in this little book.
  I should here call attention to a tract, the author of which is unknown, entitled The Thirty-two Paths of Wisdom, of which splendid translations have been made by W. Wynn Westcott, Arthur E. Waite, and Knut Stenring. In the course of time this appears to have become incorporated into, and affiliated with, the text of the Sepher Yetsirah, although several critics place it at a later date than the genuine Mishnahs of the Sepher Yetsirah. However, in giving the titles of the Paths from this tract, I have named throughout the source as the Sepher Yetsirah to avoid unnecessary confusion. It is to be hoped that no adverse criticism will arise on this point.

1.00_-_The_Constitution_of_the_Human_Being, #Theosophy, #Rudolf Steiner, #Theosophy
  The following words of Goethe's describe, in a beautiful manner, the stArting point of one of the ways by which the constitution of man can be known: "When a person first becomes aware of the objects surrounding him, he observes them in relation to himself, and rightly so, for his whole fate depends on whether they please or displease him, attract or repel, help or harm him. This quite natural way of looking at and judging things appears to be as easy as it is necessary. Nevertheless, a person is exposed through it to a thousand errors which often cause him shame and embitter his life. A far more difficult task do those undertake whose keen desire for knowledge urges them to strive to observe the objects of nature in themselves and in their relations to each other, for they soon miss the gauge which helped them when they, as persons,
   p. 10

1.00_-_The_way_of_what_is_to_come, #The Red Book Liber Novus, #C. G. Jung, #Psychology
    [Isaiah said: The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom 'abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing . . . Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap as a hArt, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert. And the parched ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water: in the habitation of dragons, where each lay, shall be grass with reeds and rushes. And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. (Isaiah 35:18).] 4
    Therefore give people dignity and let each of them stand apArt, so that each may find his own fellowship and love it.
    Truly his soul lies in things and men, but the blind one seizes things and men, yet not his soul in things and men. He has no knowledge of his soul. How could he tell her apArt from things and men? He could find his soul in desire itself but not in the objects of desire. If he possessed his desire, and his desire did not possess him, he would lay a hand on his soul, since his desire is the image and expression of his soul. 41
    He who possesses the image of the world, possesses half the world, even if his humanity is poor and owns nothing. 43 But hunger makes the soul into a beast that devours the unbearable and is poisoned by it. My friends, it is wise to nourish the soul, otherwise you will breed dragons and devils in your heArt. 44
  41. In 1912, Jung had written, "It is a common error to judge longing in terms of the quality of the object... Nature is only beautiful on account of the longing and love accorded to it by man. The aesthetic attributes emanating therefrom apply first and foremost to the libido, which alone accounts for the beauty of nature" (Transformations and Symbols of the Libido, CW B, 147).
  42. In Psychological Types, Jung Articulated this primacy of the image through his notion of esse in anima (CW 6, 66ff, 7IIff). In her diary notes, Cary Baynes commented on this passage: What struck me especially was what you said about the Bild [image] being half the world. That is the thing that makes humanity so dull. They have missed understanding that thing. The world, that is the thing that holds them rapt. Das Bild, they have never seriously considered unless they have been poets (February 8,1924, CFB).
  43. The Draft continues: He who strives only for things will sink into poverty as outer wealth increases, and his soul will be afflicted by protracted illness (p. 17).

1.01_-_Appearance_and_Reality, #The Problems of Philosophy, #Bertrand Russell, #Philosophy
  In daily life, we assume as certain many things which, on a closer scrutiny, are found to be so full of apparent contradictions that only a great amount of thought enables us to know what it is that we really may believe. In the search for certainty, it is natural to begin with our present experiences, and in some sense, no doubt, knowledge is to be derived from them. But any statement as to what it is that our immediate experiences make us know is very likely to be wrong. It seems to me that
  I am now sitting in a chair, at a table of a certain shape, on which I see sheets of paper with writing or print. By turning my head I see out of the window buildings and clouds and the sun. I believe that the sun is about ninety-three million miles from the eArth; that it is a hot globe many times bigger than the eArth; that, owing to the eArth's rotation, it rises every morning, and will continue to do so for an indefinite time in the future. I believe that, if any other normal person comes into my room, he will see the same chairs and tables and books and papers as I see, and that the table which I see is the same as the table which I feel pressing against my arm. All this seems to be so evident as to be hardly worth stating, except in answer to a man who doubts whether I know anything. Yet all this may be reasonably doubted, and all of it requires much careful discussion before we can be sure that we have stated it in a form that is wholly true.
  Any one else who sees and feels and hears the table will agree with this description, so that it might seem as if no difficulty would arise; but as soon as we try to be more precise our troubles begin. Although
  I believe that the table is 'really' of the same colour all over, the pArts that reflect the light look much brighter than the other pArts, and some pArts look white because of reflected light. I know that, if
  I move, the pArts that reflect the light will be different, so that the apparent distribution of colours on the table will change. It follows that if several people are looking at the table at the same moment, no two of them will see exactly the same distribution of colours, because no two can see it from exactly the same point of view, and any change in the point of view makes some change in the way the light is reflected.
  To return to the table. It is evident from what we have found, that there is no colour which pre-eminently appears to be _the_ colour of the table, or even of any one pArticular pArt of the table--it appears to be of different colours from different points of view, and there is no reason for regarding some of these as more really its colour than others. And we know that even from a given point of view the colour will seem different by Artificial light, or to a colour-blind man, or to a man wearing blue spectacles, while in the dark there will be no colour at all, though to touch and hearing the table will be unchanged. This colour is not something which is inherent in the table, but something depending upon the table and the spectator and the way the light falls on the table. When, in ordinary life, we speak of _the_ colour of the table, we only mean the sort of colour which it will seem to have to a normal spectator from an ordinary point of view under usual conditions of light. But the other colours which appear under other conditions have just as good a right to be considered real; and therefore, to avoid favouritism, we are compelled to deny that, in itself, the table has any one pArticular colour.
  Similar difficulties arise when we consider the sense of touch. It is true that the table always gives us a sensation of hardness, and we feel that it resists pressure. But the sensation we obtain depends upon how hard we press the table and also upon what pArt of the body we press with; thus the various sensations due to various pressures or various pArts of the body cannot be supposed to reveal _directly_ any definite property of the table, but at most to be _signs_ of some property which perhaps _causes_ all the sensations, but is not actually apparent in any of them. And the same applies still more obviously to the sounds which can be elicited by rapping the table.
  Before we go fArther it will be well to consider for a moment what it is that we have discovered so far. It has appeared that, if we take any common object of the sort that is supposed to be known by the senses, what the senses _immediately_ tell us is not the truth about the object as it is apArt from us, but only the truth about certain sense-data which, so far as we can see, depend upon the relations between us and the object. Thus what we directly see and feel is merely 'appearance', which we believe to be a sign of some 'reality' behind. But if the reality is not what appears, have we any means of knowing whether there is any reality at all? And if so, have we any means of finding out what it is like?

1.01_-_Description_of_the_Castle, #The Interior Castle or The Mansions, #Saint Teresa of Avila, #Christianity
  5.: I feel sure that vexation at thinking that during our life on eArth God can bestow these graces on the souls of others shows a want of humility and charity for one's neighbour, for why should we not feel glad at a brother's receiving divine favours which do not deprive us of our own share? Should we not rather rejoice at His Majesty's thus manifesting His greatness wherever He chooses?8' Sometimes our Lord acts thus solely for the sake of showing His power, as He declared when the Apostles questioned whether the blind man whom He cured had been suffering for his own or his parents' sins.9' God does not bestow soul speaks of that sovereign grace of God in taking it into the house of His love, which is the union or transformation of love in God . . . The cellar is the highest degree of love to which the soul can attain in this life, and is therefore said to be the inner. It follows from this that there are other cellars not so interior; that is, the degrees of love by which souls reach to this, the last. These cellars are seven in number, and the soul has entered them all when it has in perfection the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, so far as it is possible for it. . . . Many souls reach and enter the first cellar, each according to the perfection of its love, but the last and inmost cellar is entered by few in this world, because therein is wrought the perfect union with God, the union of the spiritual marriage.' A Spiritual Canticle, stanza xxvi. 1-3. Concept. ch. vi. (Minor Works of St. Teresa.) these favours on certain souls because they are more holy than others who do not receive them, but to manifest His greatness, as in the case of St. Paul and St. Mary Magdalen, and that we may glorify Him in His creatures.
  7.: Now let us return to our beautiful and charming castle and discover how to enter it. This appears incongruous: if this castle is the soul, clearly no one can have to enter it, for it is the person himself: one might as well tell some one to go into a room he is already in! There are, however, very different ways of being in this castle; many souls live in the courtyard of the building where the sentinels stand, neither caring to enter fArther, nor to know who dwells in that most delightful place, what is in it and what rooms it contains.
  8.: Certain books on prayer that you have read advise the soul to enter into itself,10' and this is what I mean. I was recently told by a great theologian that souls without prayer are like bodies, palsied and lame, having hands and feet they cannot use.' Just so, there are souls so infirm and accustomed to think of nothing but eArthly matters, that there seems no cure for them. It appears impossible for them to retire into their own heArts; accustomed as they are to be with the reptiles and other creatures which live outside the castle, they have come at last to imitate their habits. Though these souls are by their nature so richly endowed, capable of communion even with God Himself, yet their case seems hopeless. Unless they endeavour to understand and remedy their most miserable plight, their minds will become, as it were, bereft of movement, just as Lot's wife became a pillar of salt for looking backwards in disobedience to God's command.11
  9.: As far as I can understand, the gate by which to enter this castle is prayer and meditation. I do not allude more to mental than to vocal prayer, for if it is prayer at all, the mind must take pArt in it. If a person neither considers to Whom he is addressing himself, what he asks, nor what he is who ventures to speak to God, although his lips may utter many words, I do not call it prayer.12' Sometimes, indeed, one may pray devoutly without making all these considerations through having practised them at other times. The custom of speaking to God Almighty as freely as with a slave-caring nothing whether the words are suitable or not, but simply saying the first thing that comes to mind from being learnt by rote by frequent repetition-cannot be called prayer: God grant that no Christian may address Him in this manner. I trust His Majesty will prevent any of you, sisters, from doing so. Our habit in this Order of conversing about spiritual matters is a good preservative against such evil ways.
  10.: Let us speak no more of these crippled souls, who are in a most miserable and dangerous state, unless our Lord bid them rise, as He did the palsied man who had waited more than thirty years at the pool of Bethsaida.13' We will now think of the others who at last enter the precincts of the castle; they are still very worldly, yet have some desire to do right, and at times, though rarely, commend themselves to God's care. They think about their souls every now and then; although very busy, they pray a few times a month, with minds generally filled with a thousand other matters, for where their treasure is, there is their heArt also.14' Still, occasionally they cast aside these cares; it is a great boon for them to realize to some extent the state of their souls, and to see that they will never reach the gate by the road they are following.
  12.: You may think, my daughters, that all this does not concern you, because, by God's grace, you are fArther advanced; still, you must be patient with me, for I can explain myself on some spiritual matters concerning prayer in no other way. May our Lord enable me to speak to the point; the subject is most difficult to understand without personal experience of such graces. Any one who has received them will know how impossible it is to avoid touching on subjects which, by the mercy of God, will never apply to us.

1.01_-_Economy, #Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, #Henry David Thoreau, #Philosophy
  I should not obtrude my affairs so much on the notice of my readers if very pArticular inquiries had not been made by my townsmen concerning my mode of life, which some would call impertinent, though they do not appear to me at all impertinent, but, considering the circumstances, very natural and pertinent. Some have asked what I got to eat; if I did not feel lonesome; if I was not afraid; and the like. Others have been curious to learn what portion of my income I devoted to charitable purposes; and some, who have large families, how many poor children I maintained. I will therefore ask those of my readers who feel no pArticular interest in me to pardon me if I undertake to answer some of these questions in this book. In most books, the _I_, or first person, is omitted; in this it will be retained; that, in respect to egotism, is the main difference. We commonly do not remember that it is, after all, always the first person that is speaking. I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well.
  Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience. Moreover, I, on my side, require of every writer, first or last, a simple and sincere account of his own life, and not merely what he has heard of other mens lives; some such account as he would send to his kindred from a distant land; for if he has lived sincerely, it must have been in a distant land to me. Perhaps these pages are more pArticularly addressed to poor students. As for the rest of my readers, they will accept such portions as apply to them. I trust that none will stretch the seams in putting on the coat, for it may do good service to him whom it fits.
  But men labor under a mistake. The better pArt of the man is soon plowed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fools life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before. It is said that Deucalion and Pyrrha created men by throwing stones over their heads behind them:
     From thence our kind hard-heArted is, enduring pain and care,
     Approving that our bodies of a stony nature are.
  One may almost doubt if the wisest man has learned any thing of absolute value by living. Practically, the old have no very important advice to give the young, their own experience has been so pArtial, and their lives have been such miserable failures, for private reasons, as they must believe; and it may be that they have some faith left which belies that experience, and they are only less young than they were. I have lived some thirty years on this planet, and I have yet to hear the first syllable of valuable or even earnest advice from my seniors. They have told me nothing, and probably cannot tell me any thing to the purpose. Here is life, an experiment to a great extent untried by me; but it does not avail me that they have tried it. If I have any experience which I think valuable, I am sure to reflect that this my
  Mentors said nothing about.
  One farmer says to me, You cannot live on vegetable food solely, for it furnishes nothing to make bones with; and so he religiously devotes a pArt of his day to supplying his system with the raw material of bones; walking all the while he talks behind his oxen, which, with vegetable-made bones, jerk him and his lumbering plough along in spite of every obstacle. Some things are really necessaries of life in some circles, the most helpless and diseased, which in others are luxuries merely, and in others still are entirely unknown.
  We might try our lives by a thousand simple tests; as, for instance, that the same sun which ripens my beans illumines at once a system of eArths like ours. If I had remembered this it would have prevented some mistakes. This was not the light in which I hoed them. The stars are the apexes of what wonderful triangles! What distant and different beings in the various mansions of the universe are contemplating the same one at the same moment! Nature and human life are as various as our several constitutions. Who shall say what prospect life offers to another? Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each others eyes for an instant? We should live in all the ages of the world in an hour; ay, in all the worlds of the ages. History, Poetry,
  Mythology!I know of no reading of anothers experience so stArtling and informing as this would be.
  The greater pArt of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? You may say the wisest thing you can, old man,you who have lived seventy years, not without honor of a kind,I hear an irresistible voice which invites me away from all that. One generation abandons the enterprises of another like stranded vessels.
  Food and Shelter. The necessaries of life for man in this climate may, accurately enough, be distributed under the several heads of Food,
  Shelter, Clothing, and Fuel; for not till we have secured these are we prepared to entertain the true problems of life with freedom and a prospect of success. Man has invented, not only houses, but clothes and cooked food; and possibly from the accidental discovery of the warmth of fire, and the consequent use of it, at first a luxury, arose the present necessity to sit by it. We observe cats and dogs acquiring the same second nature. By proper Shelter and Clothing we legitimately retain our own internal heat; but with an excess of these, or of Fuel, that is, with an external heat greater than our own internal, may not cookery properly be said to begin? Darwin, the naturalist, says of the inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego, that while his own pArty, who were well clothed and sitting close to a fire, were far from too warm, these naked savages, who were fArther off, were observed, to his great surprise, to be streaming with perspiration at undergoing such a roasting. So, we are told, the New Hollander goes naked with impunity, while the European shivers in his clothes. Is it impossible to combine the hardiness of these savages with the intellectualness of the civilized man? According to Liebig, mans body is a stove, and food the fuel which keeps up the internal combustion in the lungs. In cold weather we eat more, in warm less. The animal heat is the result of a slow combustion, and disease and death take place when this is too rapid; or for want of fuel, or from some defect in the draught, the fire goes out. Of course the vital heat is not to be confounded with fire; but so much for analogy. It appears, therefore, from the above list, that the expression, _animal life_, is nearly synonymous with the expression, _animal heat_; for while Food may be regarded as the Fuel which keeps up the fire within us,and Fuel serves only to prepare that
  Food or to increase the warmth of our bodies by addition from without,Shelter and Clothing also serve only to retain the _heat_ thus generated and absorbed.
  The grand necessity, then, for our bodies, is to keep warm, to keep the vital heat in us. What pains we accordingly take, not only with our
  Food, and Clothing, and Shelter, but with our beds, which are our night-clothes, robbing the nests and breasts of birds to prepare this shelter within a shelter, as the mole has its bed of grass and leaves at the end of its burrow! The poor man is wont to complain that this is a cold world; and to cold, no less physical than social, we refer directly a great pArt of our ails. The summer, in some climates, makes possible to man a sort of Elysian life. Fuel, except to cook his Food, is then unnecessary; the sun is his fire, and many of the fruits are sufficiently cooked by its rays; while Food generally is more various, and more easily obtained, and Clothing and Shelter are wholly or half unnecessary. At the present day, and in this country, as I find by my own experience, a few implements, a knife, an axe, a spade, a wheelbarrow, &c., and for the studious, lamplight, stationery, and access to a few books, rank next to necessaries, and can all be obtained at a trifling cost. Yet some, not wise, go to the other side of the globe, to barbarous and unhealthy regions, and devote themselves to trade for ten or twenty years, in order that they may live,that is, keep comfortably warm,and die in New England at last. The luxuriously rich are not simply kept comfortably warm, but unnaturally hot; as I implied before, they are cooked, of course _ la mode_.
  We know not much about them. It is remarkable that _we_ know so much of them as we do. The same is true of the more modern reformers and benefactors of their race. None can be an impArtial or wise observer of human life but from the vantage ground of what we should call voluntary poverty. Of a life of luxury the fruit is luxury, whether in agriculture, or commerce, or literature, or Art. There are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not philosophers. Yet it is admirable to profess because it was once admirable to live. To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically. The success of great scholars and thinkers is commonly a courtier-like success, not kingly, not manly. They make shift to live merely by conformity, practically as their fathers di