You are dark, even as the flints are. You must come to violent conflicts and make a noise in order to produce your sparks. But their disconnected flashes merely assist your pride, and not your clear vision.

Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

Profession: Poet
Nationality: Indian

Some suggestions for you :

Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.

Tears came to my eyes. I forgot that he was a poor Cabuli fruit-seller, while I was—. But no, what was I more than he? He also was a father.

Tell him Sudha has not forgotten him.

In love I pay my endless debt to you for what you are.

Oh! what lies we women have to tell! When we are mothers, we tell lies to pacify our children; and when we are wives, we tell lies to pacify the fathers of our children. We are never free from this necessity.

The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love. My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.

In love we find a joy which is ultimate because it is the ultimate truth.

I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes.

To be outspoken is easy when you do not wait to speak the complete truth.

India is there to unite all human races. Because of that reason in India we have not been given the unity of races.

I have spent a fortune traveling to distant shores and looked at lofty mountains and boundless oceans, and yet I haven't found time to take a few steps from my house to look at a single dew drop on a single blade of grass.

At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate to be shut; but I find that yet there is time.

It is easy to drown yourself effortlessly into that which is truly profound and do no realise its true worth. And since the restless illusion which brings no pleasure even if you drain it to the dregs lead us by the nose and makes us dance a merry dance to its tune and we take it to be the lost desirable thing.

The soil in return for her service keeps the tree tied to her; the sky asks nothing and leaves it free.