Life fits the shoe you walk in.
A questioning man is already half wise.
The mystic, identifying neither with his-her race-religion-gender nor with any mind-made blunder, lives and dies in One's splendor.
Success makes tyrants of most of the humankind; making us forget basic courtesy, and being kind.
Forms come and go. You, the quantum non-entity behind your human identity, comes nor goes.
If you do not want others to laugh at your inherited god and faith, then, do not follow a hateful and stupid, a man-made sod and ism, mate.
If you're still living, you are yet! winning.
Hey, religious nuts! Please do not grow up. Just go up!
A closed heart opens no mind.
All's a Oneness. There's nothing else.
You're alright, I guess; for, you're just being you, like any other cuckoo.
Most humans are but beasts and bitches, till the One in All - this unconscious seeking, and conscious finding of it - 'em itches.
We're shadows! of naught;living, dying! for what's not.
You're not a piece of nothing, but the all of everything.
That you exist, is offense enough to arrest you.
Life is an unfinished art, few master it, most just bark.
I wish you all the best in life. Hell, I will even write your obituary for free.
Humour sustains us during failure; more so after success, when we're prone to fail that much more, daring abyss, pumped up with success.
If you're born a man, be a man. If a woman, be proud of being one. For, you're not the body, mind, this or that. "Ye are gods!" - human.