Pukhraj: Up until now, I merely feared for my flesh to be torn to pieces and tossed up in a tribal carnage of 'motiveless malignity'. Now I have to forget about my own safety and start worrying about yours. You don't love so much, Pukhraj, and expect your back to escape a dagger. And son, these days, they don't even care to dip the dagger in honey. Beware!
But beware not. So long as there is love in your heart, even daggers will defy assassins. There is so much love to spread and there are so many in this world to spread it in, and so few who would allow you to spread it and go unscathed that you have a life-time's work laid out before you. You will never be unemployed. Lovers are never unemployed. And the funny thing is that even those who don't like the inanities of love somehow fall for its charms. Love is never embarrassed by its imperial desires. It colonizes even the most desolate deserts of human soul.
What fascinates me about you is your refusal to be educated despite all your erudition. Your education has spared you -- fortunately, for you and for those who lust your fragrance.