Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.

The afternoon of a human life must have a significance of its own, and cannot be merely a pitiful appendage to life's morning.

I know that in many things I am not like others, but I do not know what I really am like. Man cannot compare himself with any other creature; he is not a monkey, not a cow, not a tree. I am a man. But what is it to be that? Like every other being, I am a splinter of the infinite deity, but I cannot contrast myself with any animal, any plant or any stone. Only a mythical being has a range greater than man's. How then can man form any definite opinions about himself?.

If God wishes to be born as man and to unite mankind in the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, He suffers the terrible torment of having to bear the world in its reality. It is a crux; indeed, He Himself is His own cross. The world is God's suffering, and every individual human being who wishes even to approach his own wholeness knows very well that this means bearing his own cross. But the eternal promise for him who bears his own cross is the Paraclete.

How can anyone see straight when he does not see himself and the darkness he unconsciously carries with him into all his dealings?

Man is the mirror God holds up to himself, the sense organ with which he apprehends his being.

Nothing is possible without love.