I distracted myself from the fear and terrorism by thinking about things like how the universe began and whether time travel is possible.
I felt the question of the afterlife was the black hole of the personal universe: something for which substantial proof of existence had been offered but which had not yet been explored in the proper way by scientists and philosophers.
If there is anything in the universe that can’t stand discussion, let it crack.
It’s hard for anyone intelligent to be nonviolent. Everything in the universe does something when you start playing with his life, except the American Negro. He lays down and says, ‘Beat me, daddy.’
I heard what was said of the universe, heard it and heard it of several thousand years; it is middling well as far as it goes – but is that all?
This universe can very well be expressed in words and syllables which are not those of one’s mother tongue.
There is no chance and anarchy in the universe. All is system and gradation. Every god is there sitting in his sphere.
With the emergence of civilization, the rate of change shifted from hundreds of thousands of years to millennia. With the emergence of science as a way of knowing the universe, the rate of change shifted to centuries.
All around us is the cosmic game, the cosmic play. The universe is full of joy, inner and outer. When realisation takes place, we have to feel the necessity of manifesting this constant delight in our heart. The delight glows, but does not burn. It has tremendous intensity, but it is all softness and absolutely sweet-flowing nectar.
The sunlight ranges over the universe, and at incarnation we step out of it into the twilight of the body, and see but dimly during the period of our incarceration; at death we step out of the prison again into the sunlight, and are nearer to the reality.