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“ The king was entranced by Pundarik's wonderful powers; the amazement of the scholars knew no bounds; and these new metaphorical explanations of Krishna and Rádhá utterly swept away the song of the flute, the murmur of the Jamuna, and the intoxication of love;—as if some one wiped away the fresh verdant hue of Spring from the face of the earth, and spread all over it a coating of the sacred cowdung! Shekhar felt his song of so many years to be vain. ”

“ When Pundarik made pause, for a time the hushed hall only simmered with the echo of his voice and the speechless amazement of a thousand hearts. The scholars come from far and near raised their right arms and with uplifted voice cried 'Bravo' on him.
The king from his throne cast one glance at Shekhar. The poet sent back to the king a look of mingled respect, friendship, pride and some amount of pathos and shrinking, too, and then slowly rose from his seat. ”

“ Methinks, in the royal harem the princess Invicta must have now and then jested with Manjari about it. And Manjari did not take it ill.
Thus compounded of truth and falsehood, human life glides on in its own way,—a part of it shaped by Providence, a part by ourselves, and a part by our neighbours. It is a patchwork of odds and ends, truth and falsehood, the fictitious and the real.
Only the songs that the poet sang were true and whole. Their theme was the old old one of Radha and Krishna,—the Eternal Male and the Eternal Feminine, the primeval sorrow and the unending bliss! ”