We are only syllables of the perfect Word.

God speaks silently, God speaks in your heart; if your heart is noisy, chattering, you will not hear.

It is a time of darkness, of faith. We shall not see Christ's radiance in our lives yet; it is still hidden in our darkness; nevertheless, we must believe that He is growing in our lives; we must believe it so firmly that we cannot help relating everything, literally everything, to this almost incredible reality.

The love for material things grows like a fungus in the soul and destroys the loveliness of the human heart utterly.

The way to begin healing the wounds of the world is to treasure the Infant Christ in us; to be not the castle but the cradle of Christ; and, in rocking that cradle to the rhythm of love, to swing the whole world back into the beat of the Music of Eternal Life.

In every passerby, everywhere - Christ . . . He is in everyone - there can be no outcasts.

God is everywhere: yes, but how dim faith is, what a remote idea heaven is, in the modern world!