Rabindranath Tagore

I leave no trace of wings in the air, but I am glad I have had my flight.

The fish in the water is silent, the animals on the earth is noisy, the bird in the air is singing. But man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and the music of the air.

I have listened _x000D_ And I have looked _x000D_ With open eyes. _x000D_ I have poured my soul _x000D_ Into the world _x000D_ Seeking the unknown _x000D_ Within the known. _x000D_ And I sing out loud _x000D_ In amazement.

God, the Great Giver, can open the whole universe to our gaze in the narrow space of a single land.

Everything comes to us that belongs to us if we create the capacity to receive it.

There is a point where in the mystery of existence contradictions meet; where movement is not all movement and stillness is not all stillness; where the idea and the form, the within and the without, are united; where infinite becomes finite, yet not losing its infinity. If this meeting is dissolved, then things become unreal.

Melody and harmony are like lines and colors in pictures. A simple linear picture may be completely beautiful; the introduction of color may make it vague and insignificant. Yet color may, by combination with lines, create great pictures, so long as it does not smother and destroy their value.

Life's errors cry for the merciful beauty that can modulate their isolation into a harmony with the whole.

The flower fades and dies; but he who wears the flower has not to mourn for it for ever.

Life, like a child, laughs, shaking its rattle of death as it runs.

My Friend: Art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair. I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend! I can see nothing before me. I wonder where lies thy path! By what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend?

If life's journey be endless where is its goal? The answer is, it is everywhere. We are in a palace which has no end, but which we have reached. By exploring it and extending our relationship with it we are ever making it more and more our own.

The question and the cry 'Oh, where?' melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance 'I am!'

In the mountain, stillness surges up to explore its own height In the lake, movement stands still to contemplate its own depth.

Beauty is truth's smile when she beholds her own face in a perfect mirror.

Let this be my last word, that I trust in thy love.

Nirvana is not the blowing out of the candle. It is the extinguishing of the flame because day is come.

The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words which are clear; the great truth has great silence.

Let it not be death but completeness. Let love melt into memory and pain into songs. Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest. Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night. Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence. I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

I ask my destiny - what power is this That cruelly drives me onward without rest? My destiny says, "Look round!" I turn back and see It is I myself that is ever pushing me from behind.

It sometimes strikes me how immensely fortunate I am that each day should take its place in my life, either reddened with the rising and setting sun, or refreshingly cool with deep, dark clouds, or blooming like a white flower in the moonlight. What untold wealth!