Suppose truth is not the aim of life. Imagine, all along great minds and intellects have been searching frantically for truth, looking in every nook and cranny of the world to uncover truth. It always seems to be slippery; when we finally grasp what we think is truth, it slips out of our hands and scurries off. Isn’t life all but a frantic search for truth?
To live in the sense of these great cosmogonies means to work for the attainment of personal spiritual perfection. Only by so doing can man become a servant of the world and of humanity. Self-perfection is by no means self-seeking, for the imperfect man is an imperfect servant of the world and of humanity. The more perfect a man is, the better does he serve the world. “If the rose adorns itself, it adorns the garden.”