Every Life Has Its Years In Which

And If I Were To Ask Myself From What Literature We Who Have Been Nurtured Almost Exclusively On The Thoughts Of Greeks And Romans, And Of The Semitic Race, The Jewish, May Draw The Corrective Which Is Most Wanted In Order To Make Our Inner Life More Perfect, More Comprehensive, More Universal, In Fact More Truly Human A Life... Again I Should Point To India.

He In Whom All This Is Destroyed, And Taken Out With The Very Root, He, When Freed From Hatred And Wise, Is Called Respectable.

The Evil Done By Oneself, Self-begotten, Self-bred, Crushes The Foolish, As A Diamond Breaks A Precious Stone.

To Me This Technical Acceptation Seems Not Applicable Here, Where We Have To Deal With The Simplest Moral Precepts, And Not With Psychological Niceties Of Buddhist Philosophy.

Every Life Has Its Years In Which One Progresses As On A Tedious And Dusty Street Of Poplars, Without Caring To Know Where He Is.