He Who, By Causing Pain

It Is The Heart That Makes The Critic, Not The Nose.

I Have Declared Again And Again That If I Say Aryans, I Mean Neither Blood Nor Bones, Nor Hair Nor Skull; I Mean Simply Those Who Speak An Aryan Language. In That Sense, And In That Sense Only, Do I Say That Even The Blackest Hindus Represent An Earlier Stage Of Aryan Speech And Thought Than The Fairest Scandinavians. To Me An Ethnologist Who Speaks Of Aryan Race, Aryan Blood, Aryan Eyes And Hair, Is As Great A Sinner As A Linguist Who Speaks Of A Dolichocephalic Dictionary Or A Brachycephalic Grammar.

There Is No Book In The World That Is So Thrilling, Stirring And Inspiring As The Upanishads.

Is It Sin, Which Makes The Worm A Chrysalis, And The Chrysalis A Butterfly, And The Butterfly Dust?

I Spend My Happiest Hours In Reading Vedantic Books. They Are To Me Like The Light Of The Morning, Like The Pure Air Of The Mountains - So Simple, So True, If Once Understood.