Rabindranath Tagore
Rabindranath Tagore
Rabindranath Tagore FRAS, also written Ravīndranātha Thākura, sobriquet Gurudev, was a Bengali polymath who reshaped Bengali literature and music, as well as Indian art with Contextual Modernism in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Author of Gitanjali and its "profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verse", he became the first non-European to win the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913. In translation his poetry was viewed as spiritual and mercurial; however, his "elegant prose and magical poetry" remain largely unknown...
NationalityIndian
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth7 May 1861
CityKolkata, India
CountryIndia
The object of education is to give man the unity of truth. Formerly, when life was simple, all the different elements of man were in complete harmony. But when there came the separation of the intellect from the spiritual and the physical, the school
We sit inert, like dead specimens of some museum, while lessons are pelted at us from on high, like hailstones on flowers.
A lamp can only light another lamp when it continues to burn in its own flame.
Don't limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.
The highest education is that which does not merely give us information but makes our life in harmony with all existence.
Truth cannot afford to be tolerant where it faces positive evil.
The progress of our soul is like a perfect poem. It has an infinite idea which once realized makes all movements full of meaning and joy. But if we detach its movements from that ultimate idea, if we do not see the infinite rest and only see the infi
The question why there is evil in existence is the same as why there is imperfection... But this is the real question we ought to ask: Is this imperfection the final truth, is evil absolute and ultimate?
We gain freedom when we have paid the full price for our right to live.
Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of humanity.
Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.
We do not raise our hands to the void for things beyond hope.
There are men whose idea of life is tactic, who long for its continuation after death only because of their wish for permanence and not perfection; they love to imagine that the things to which they are accustomed will persist for ever. They complete
I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.