Entangled in a hundred worldly snares, Self-seeking men, by ignorance deluded, Strive by unrighteous means to pile up riches. Then, in their self-complacency, they say, ?This acquisition I have made to-day, That will I gain to-morrow, so much pelf Is hoarded up already, so much more Remains that I have yet to treasure up. This enemy I have destroyed, him also, And others in their turn, I will despatch. I am a lord; I will enjoy myself; I?m wealthy, noble, strong, successful, happy; I?m absolutely perfect; no one else In all the world can be compared to me. Now will I offer up a sacrifice, Give gifts with lavish hand, and be triumphant.? Such men, befooled by endless vain conceits, Caught in the meshes of the world?s illusion, Immersed in sensuality, descend Down to the foulest hell of unclean spirits.*
Mahabharata