But Inwardly We Are As

Have You Ever Noticed A Tree Standing Naked Against The Sky, How Beautiful It Is? All Its Branches Are Outlined, And In Its Nakedness There Is A Poem, There Is A Song. Every Leaf Is Gone And It Is Waiting For The Spring. When The Spring Comes, It Again Fills The Tree With The Music Of Many Leaves, Which In Due Season Fall And Are Blown Away. And This Is The Way Of Life.

The Constant Assertion Of Belief Is An Indication Of Fear.

The Earth Doesn't Belong To Anyone. It Is The Land Upon Which All Of Us Are To Live For Many Years, Ploughing, Reaping And Destroying. You Are Always A Guest On This Earth And Have The Austerity Of A Guest. Austerity Is Far Deeper Than Owning Only A Few Things. The Very Word Austerity Has Been Spoilt By The Monks, By The Sannyasis, By The Hermits. Sitting On That High Hill Alone In The Solitude Of Many Things, Many Rocks And Little Animals And Ants, That Word Has No Meaning.

To Understand Yourself Is The Beginning Of Wisdom.

When There Is Love, There Is No Duty. When You Love Your Wife, You Share Everything With Her-your Property, Your Trouble, Your Anxiety, Your Joy. You Do Not Dominate. You Are Not The Man And She Is Not The Woman To Be Used And Thrown Aside, A Sort Of Breeding Machine To Carry On Your Name. When There Is Love, The Word Duty Disappears.