Iqbal, that great poet, was so right. The moment you recognize what is beautiful in this world, you stop being a slave. To hell with the Naxals and their guns shipped from China. If you taught every poor boy how to paint, that would be the end of the rich in India.
Whenever externals are more important to you than your own integrity, then be prepared to serve them the remainder of your life.
The man who spends his time choosing one resort after another in a hunt for peace and quiet, will in every place he visits find something to prevent him from relaxing.
If the art of war were nothing but the art of avoiding risks, glory would become the prey of mediocre minds.