As bees, my dear, make honey by collecting the juices of trees located at different places and reduce them to one form, And as these juices have no descrimination so as to be able to say: "I am the juice of this tree" or "I am the juice of that tree" - even so, indeed, my dear, all these creatures, though they reach Pure Being, do not know that they have reached Pure Being. Whatever these creatures are, here in this world: a tiger, a lion, a wolf, a boar, a worm, a fly, a gnat, or a mosquito, that they become again. Now, that which is the subtle essence-in it all that exists has its self. That is the True. That is the Self. That thou art, Svetaketu. "Please, venerable Sir, give me further instruction" said the son. "So be it, my dear" the father replied.
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