In plain words
Man longs for happiness alone, and all his life he runs to win it. But with no firm understanding that happiness is like this or like that, he falls into the delusion that, whatever he gets, something else will give more happiness than it. He takes refuge in outer things alone, in outer objects alone, and so falls prey to disappointment and unrest. If you enquire deeply, where is there an end to pleasures? What sort of satisfaction do outer things give? From the instant he is born to the moment he dies, man runs about after happiness, crying ‘happiness, happiness’, and gives his body and his time to it; he forgets the truth that he himself is the very form of Ānanda, the very form of immortality, the very form of sweetness, and he suffers, that is all!
Leave aside the questions whether happiness and Śānti are for the sake of the body, for the sake of the senses, or for the contentment of the mind: first of all, man must make the enquiry whether he himself is really the body, the senses, the mind, or the Ātma that is beyond these. What is called the body is only a pot. Race, caste, religion, form, name: all these belong to that pot alone; they do not cling to the Ātma, which, pervading all like space, without guṇas and without form, lies hidden in that pot.