لم يمنحوا أنفسهم وقتا و لا جهدا ليقووا أنفسهم أمام الخوف و ليقهروا في أنفسهم الخوف من الموت, بل ساروا بحياتهم مرتعدين لا يؤمنون بغد - Hermann Hesse

My resolve to die was not the whim of an hour. It was the ripe, sound fruit that had slowly grown to full size, lightly rocked by the winds of fate whose next breath would bring it to the ground.

No permanence is ours; we are a wave
That flows to fit whatever form it finds:
Through night or day, cathedral or the cave
We pass forever, craving form that binds.

The marvel of the Bhagavad-Gita is its truly beautiful revelation of life's wisdom which enables philosophy to blossom into religion.