The shots that hit me are the last nails to the coffin of the British rule in India. Lala Lajpat Rai

The shots that hit me are the last nails to the coffin of the British rule in India. Lala Lajpat Rai

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Let new India arise out of peasants' cottage, grasping the plough, out of huts, cobbler and sweeper.-Swami Vivekananda

Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge,...At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. Jawaharlal Nehru

Revolution did not necessarily involve sanguinary strife. It was not a cult of bomb and pistol. They may sometimes be mere means for its achievement. Bhagat Singh

One individual may die for an ideas, but that idea will, after his death, incarnate itself in a thousand lives. -Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose

You must be the change you want to see in the World. Mahatma Gandhi

Mother, I bow to thee! Rich with thy hurrying streams, Bright with orchard gleams, Cool with thy winds of delight, Green fields waving, Mother of might, Mother free. Glory of moonlight dreams, Over thy branches and lordly streams, Clad in thy blossoming trees, Mother, giver of ease, Laughing low and sweet! Mother I kiss thy feet, Speaker sweet and low! Mother, to thee I bow. Bankim Chandra Chaterjee

Let new India arise out of peasants' cottage, grasping the plough, out of huts, cobbler and sweeper.-Swami Vivekananda

Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge,...At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. Jawaharlal Nehru

Revolution did not necessarily involve sanguinary strife. It was not a cult of bomb and pistol. They may sometimes be mere means for its achievement. Bhagat Singh

One individual may die for an ideas, but that idea will, after his death, incarnate itself in a thousand lives. -Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose

You must be the change you want to see in the World. Mahatma Gandhi

Mother, I bow to thee! Rich with thy hurrying streams, Bright with orchard gleams, Cool with thy winds of delight, Green fields waving, Mother of might, Mother free. Glory of moonlight dreams, Over thy branches and lordly streams, Clad in thy blossoming trees, Mother, giver of ease, Laughing low and sweet! Mother I kiss thy feet, Speaker sweet and low! Mother, to thee I bow. Bankim Chandra Chaterjee