The city atmosphere certainly has improved her. Some way she doesn't seem like the same woman.

There was no despondency when she fell asleep that night; nor was there hope when she awoke in the morning.

At a very early period she had apprehended the instinctively the dual life - that outward existence which conforms, the inward life which questions.

Goodbye -- Because I love you.

There was a dull pang of regret because it was not the kiss of love which had inflamed her, because it was not love which had held this cup of life to her lips.

A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her,—the light which, showing the way, forbids it.

We shall be everything to each other. Nothing else shall be of any consequence.

The past was nothing to her; offered no lesson which she was willing to heed. The future was a mystery which she never attempted to penetrate. The present alone was significant.

She missed him the days when some pretext served to take him away from her, just as one misses the sun on a cloudy day without having thought much about the sun when it was shining.

The delicious breath of rain was in the air.

The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings.

Even as a child she had lived her own small life within herself. At a very early period she had apprehended instinctively the dual life - that outward existence which conforms, the inward life which questions.

The artist must possess the courageous soul that dares and defies

She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

But whatever came, she had resolved never again to belong to another than herself.

The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.

The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander in abysses of solitude.

Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one's life.

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.

She wanted something to happen - something, anything: she did not know what.

The Ganga to me is the symbol of India's memorable past which has been flowing into the present and continues to flow towards the ocean of the future.

Most of us seldom take the trouble to think. It is a troublesome and fatiguing process and often leads to uncomfortable conclusions. But crises and deadlocks when they occur have at least this advantage, that they force us to think.

A leader or a man of action in a crisis almost always acts subconsciously and then thinks of the reasons for his action.