In plain words
One need not be a scholar to know that secret. We need firewood only until the cooking is done. Once the food is cooked, we have no need of the firewood.
The secret of living
A fish moves about joyfully in a great stream, floating, diving and playing. What is the reason for this? Because the fish knows the secret of swimming, however big the stream, it can live in the water happily, at ease, joyfully. But the elephant, which has a big body among the animals, does not know how to swim and is swept away by the stream. What is the difference between the little fish and the big elephant? Knowing how to swim, that alone. If one knows that, one can live in happiness and peace without any danger.
An ant easily searches out a piece of sugar caught in the sand, recognises it and is able to eat it. No creature that cannot recognise the taste of sugar can separate the sugar, eat it and enjoy it. In the same way, however many kinds of learning man studies, however many śāstras he comes to know, however many Vedas he recites, so long as he does not recognise the chief secret, his own nature, his own key, his own goal, his own existence, all these are nothing but showy disguises! Learning, scholarship or cleverness teach man about his welfare, but they do not hand it to him in practice. All these are like guideposts, signboards that point the way. These can show the way, but they cannot lead along the way. Only when we walk can we reach the goal; merely looking at the board without walking, we cannot reach the goal. So our chief duty is just this: to try to practise. Merely by reading history we cannot recognise the secret of history. We must try to make our own history.
Even sunk in water up to the throat, one can talk. But a person who is wholly under water cannot speak a word.