The glory of Him who moves everything penetrates through the universe, and is resplendent in one part more and in another less.

A prayer may chance to rise From one whose heart lives in the grace of God. A prayer from any other is unheeded.

As phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.

O power of fantasy that steals our minds from things outside, to leave us unaware, although a thousand trumpets may blow loud--what stirs you if the senses show you nothing? Light stirs you, formed in Heaven, by itself, or by His will Who sends it down to us.

Thou shall know by experience how salt the savor is of others' bread, and how sad a path it is to climb and descend another's stairs.

Here let dead poetry rise once more to life.

There is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness.