He paced up and down our outside dining room veranda, talking of Krishna and the love of Krishna and the power that love was in the world. He had a curious quality that when he was a bhakta, a lover, he brushed aside karma and raja and jnana yogas as if they were of no consequence whatever. And when he was a karma-yogi, then he made that the great theme. Or equally so, the jnana. Sometimes, weeks, he would fall in one particular mood utterly disregardful of what he had been, just previous to that. He seemed to be filled with an amazing power of concentration; of opening up to the great Cosmic qualities that are all about us. It was probably that power of concentration that kept him so young and so fresh, he never seemed to repeat himself. There would be an incident of very tittle consequence which would illuminate a whole new passage for him.
Swamiji was a very powerful personality. On the one hand he would attack with an his vigour and might any wrong and injustice and would pounce upon and try to root out the evil altogether; on the other, his heart was very tender and soft. Once he said, “Is it possible that your finger would get cut by the soft bubbles of fresh-drawn milk? I say, even this may be possible, but the heart of Shri Radha was even softer.”
(Reminiscenses Of Swami Vivekananda)
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