One century's saint is the next century's heretic ... and one century's heretic is the next century's saint. It is as well to think long and calmly before affixing either name to any man.

Nothing is more pleasing and engaging than the sense of having conferred benefits. Not even the gratification of receiving them.

The voices of cold reason were talking, as usual, to deaf ears.

All the things of the wild have their proper uses. Only misuse makes them evil.

Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment.

Even a saint may take pleasure, in retrospect, in having been once desired

Brother Cadfael knew better than to be in a hurry, where souls were concerned. There was plenty of elbow-room in eternity.