Dil kitna "Nazook" hota hai, 
Aur ishku dhukhane wale "Badsalook"

They reminded him of something—what was it?—some memory, some picture. He strove to find it and then it came of itself.  It rose out of the years complete with all its colours and its cries, its crowded feelings.

The nations were awakened from the sleep of death, as the words of eternal life flowed from the Apostles&#39; lips, - the temples of superstition were shut or destroyed, and churches were planted in every part of the civilized world.

Great literature will insist upon its self-sufficiency in the face of the worthiest causes

Written By Harold Bloom

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