We owe a lot to the Indians, who taught us how to count, without which no worthwhile scientific discovery could have been made. -Albert Einstein
One individual may die for an ideas, but that idea will, after his death, incarnate itself in a thousand lives. -Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose
Let new India arise out of peasants' cottage, grasping the plough, out of huts, cobbler and sweeper.-Swami Vivekananda
When a man is in doubt what to do, he goes wherever he happens to be first called. Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay
Every citizen of India must remember that...he is an Indian and he has every right in this country but with certain ...duties. Sardar Vallabh Bhai Patel
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
We owe a lot to the Indians, who taught us how to count, without which no worthwhile scientific discovery could have been made. -Albert Einstein
One individual may die for an ideas, but that idea will, after his death, incarnate itself in a thousand lives. -Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose
Let new India arise out of peasants' cottage, grasping the plough, out of huts, cobbler and sweeper.-Swami Vivekananda
When a man is in doubt what to do, he goes wherever he happens to be first called. Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay
Every citizen of India must remember that...he is an Indian and he has every right in this country but with certain ...duties. Sardar Vallabh Bhai Patel
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