A Quote by Chanakya

The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all directions. — © Chanakya
The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all directions.
The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all direction.
God spreads grace like a 4-year old spreads peanut butter-He gets it all over everything.
When the petals of the heart unfold, fragrance spreads across the valley.
Rose never propagandize its fragrant, but its own fragrance spreads through its surrounding.
The morning wind spreads its fresh smell. We must get up and take that in, that wind that lets us live. Breathe before it's gone.
God the Father's a deep root; the Son's the shoot that breaks into the world; the Spirit spreads the beauty & fragrance
Worst of all, there is no sign of any relaxation of antisemitism. Logically it has nothing to do with Fascism. But the human raceis imitative rather than logical; and as Fascism spreads antisemitism spreads.
Evil spreads with the wind; truth is capable of spreading even against it.
To live out of understanding is compassion. Never try to practice it, simply relax deep into meditation. Be in a state of let-go in meditation and suddenly you will be able to smell the fragrance that is coming from your own innermost depth. Then the flower blossoms and compassion spreads. Meditation is the flower and compassion is its fragrance.
True glory takes root, and even spreads; all false pretences, like flowers, fall to the ground; nor can any counterfeit last long.
Neha is such a positive person and spreads such good vibes in all the lives she touches.
However and wherever war begins, it persists, it spreads, it propagates itself through time and across space with the terrifying tenacity of a beast attached to the neck of living prey. This is not an idly chosen figure of speech. War spreads and perpetuates itself through a dynamic that often seems independent of human will. It has, as we like to say of things we do not fully understand, 'a life of its own.
Until a man selects a DEFINITE PURPOSE IN LIFE, he dissipates his energies & spreads his thoughts over so many subjects & in so many different directions that they lead not to power, but to indecision & weakness.
Stories are compasses and architecture, we navigate by them, we build our sanctuaries and our prisons out of them, and to be without a story is to be lost in the vastness of a world that spreads in all directions like arctic tundra or sea ice.
Perseverance gives power to weakness, and opens to poverty the world's wealth. It spreads fertility over the barren landscape, and buds the choicest flowers and fruits spring up and flourish in the desert abode of thorns and briars.
The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the falling of the dusk.
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