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For months and years I sat in mosquito-ridden rooms and endured countless sharp stings with stolid stoic patience for the sake of studying the Indian wisdom and practising the Indian yoga. Hands, feet, and face were mercilessly attacked by numerous legions of these pestilential insects, which were often ably assisted by little brown biting ants. Yet to feel that I was absorbing the one and mastering the other was sufficient reward for my sufferings. If my body was spasmodically tortured, my mind was soothed with growing peace.

-- Notebooks Category 12: Reflections > Chapter 4 : Reflections On Truth > # 189