Rabindranath Tagore Quotes

Amal: It isn't sad. When they shut me in here first I felt the day was so long. Since the King's Post Office I like it more and more being indoors, and as I think I shall get a letter one day, I feel quite happy and then I don't mind being quiet and alone. I wonder if I shall make out what'll be in the King's letter?

Gaffer: Even if you didn't wouldn't it be enough if it just bore your name?

There is no external means of taking freedom by the throat. It is the inward process of losing ourselves that leads to it. Bondage in all its forms has its stronghold in the inner self and not in the outside world; it is in the dimming of our consciousness, in the narrowing of our perspective, in the wrong valuation of things.

By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world.
But it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs, and thout keepst me free.
Lest I forgot them they never venture to leave me alone. But day passes by after day and thou art not seen.
If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart, thy love for me still waits for my love.

সৃজনের একটা বিপুল আনন্দ আছে। কিন্তু কোনো মানুষ তো সমস্ত সময় সৃজনে ব্যাপৃত থাকিতে পারে না - তাহার শক্তির সীমা আছে, এবং সংসারে লিপ্ত থাকিয়া তাহাকে জীবনযাত্রা নির্বাহ করিতেও হয়। এই জীবনযাত্রায় তাহার বড়ো অসুবিধা। মনটির উপর অবিশ্রাম কল্পনার তা দিয়া সে এমনি করিয়া তুলিয়াছে যে, তাহার গায়ে কিছুই সয় না। সাত-ফুটা-ওয়ালা বাঁশি বাদ্য যন্ত্রের হিসাবে ভালো, ফুৎকারমাত্রে বাজিয়া ওঠে; কিন্তু ছিদ্রহীন পাকা বাঁশের লাঠি সংসার পথের পক্ষে ভালো, তাহার উপর স্মপূর্ণ নির্ভর করা যায়।

YOU are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf,
I am the smaller one on its upper side,'
said the dewdrop to the lake.

The light of thy music illumines the world. The life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky. The holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on.

Light finds her treasure of colours through the antagonism of clouds.

Life is given to us, we earn it by giving it.

In learning a language, when from mere words we reach the laws of words, we have gained a great deal. But if we stop at that point and concern ourselves only with the marvels of the formation of a language, seeking the hidden reason of all its apparent caprices, we do not reach that end, for grammar is not literature… When we come to literature, we find that, though it conforms to the rules of grammar, it is yet a thing of joy; it is freedom itself. The beauty of a poem is bound by strict laws, yet it transcends them. The laws are its wings. They do not keep it weighed down. They carry it to freedom. Its form is in law, but its spirit is in beauty. Law is the first step toward freedom, and beauty is the complete liberation which stands on the pedestal of law. Beauty harmonizes in itself the limit and the beyond – the law and the liberty.

Woman knows man well enough where he is weak, but she is quite unable to fathom him where he is strong. The fact is that man is as much a mystery to woman as woman is to man. If that were not so, the separation of the sexes would only have been a waste of Nature's energy.

The highest education is that which does not merely give us information but makes our life in harmony with all existence.

শিমুল কাঠই হোক আর বকুল কাঠই হোক, আগুনের চেহারাটা একই।

I sat wondering: Why is there always this deep shade of melancholy over the fields arid river banks, the sky and the sunshine of our country? And I came to the conclusion that it is because with us Nature is obviously the more important thing. The sky is free, the fields limitless; and the sun merges them into one blazing whole. In the midst of this, man seems so trivial. He comes and goes, like the ferry-boat, from this shore to the other; the babbling hum of his talk, the fitful echo of his song, is heard; the slight movement of his pursuit of his own petty desires is seen in the world's market-places: but how feeble, how temporary, how tragically meaningless it all seems amidst the immense aloofness of the Universe!

The contrast between the beautiful, broad, unalloyed peace of Nature — calm, passive, silent, unfathomable, — and our own everyday worries — paltry, sorrow-laden, strife-tormented, puts me beside myself as I keep staring at the hazy, distant, blue line of trees which fringe the fields across the river.

Where Nature is ever hidden, and cowers under mist and cloud, snow and darkness, there man feels himself master; he regards his desires, his works, as permanent; he wants to perpetuate them, he looks towards posterity, he raises monuments, he writes biographies; he even goes the length of erecting tombstones over the dead. So busy is he that he has not time to consider how many monuments crumble, how often names are forgotten!

My heart, the bird of the wilderness,
has found its sky in your eyes.
They are the cradle of the morning,
they are the kingdom of the stars.
My songs are lost in their depths.
Let me but soar in that sky,
in its lonely immensity.
Let me but cleave its clouds
and spread wings in its sunshine.

Melody and harmony are like lines and colors in pictures. A simple linear picture may be completely beautiful; the introduction of color may make it vague and insignificant. Yet color may, by combination with lines, create great pictures, so long as it does not smother and destroy their value.