People think that renunciation is learned by unselfishness. It is the onlooker who sees renunciation in the form of unselfishness, as a dog might see renunciation when a man throws away a bone: it does not realize that the bone is only valuable to it and not to the man. Every object has its peculiar value to every individual; and as a person evolves through life so the value of things becomes different; and as one rises above things so one renounces them in life. And when the one who has not risen above them looks at someone else's renunciation, he calls it either foolish or unselfish.

One need not learn renunciation; life itself teaches it, and to the small extent that one has to learn a lesson in the path of renunciation, it is this: that where in order to gain silver coins one has to lose the copper ones, one must learn to lose them. That is the only unselfishness that one must learn: that one cannot have both, the copper and the silver.

There is a saying in Hindi, "The seeker after honor dies for a name, the seeker after money will die for a coin."

To the man to whom the coin is precious the name is nothing; to him who considers a name precious money is nothing. So one person cannot understand the attitude of another unless he puts on his cloak; and sees life from his point of view. There is nothing valuable except what we value in life; and a man is fully justified in renouncing all that he has, or that may be offered to him, for the sake of that which he values, even if it be that he values it only for this moment; for there will never be a thing which he will value always in the same way.

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;

Dust into Dust, and under dust to lie
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!

-- Omar Khayyam.