God felt, God tasted and enjoyed is indeed God, but God with those gifts which flatter the soul, God in darkness, in privation, in forsakenness, in sensibility, is so much God, that he is so to speak God bare and alone. Shall we fear this death, which is to produce in us the true divine life of grace?

Peace does not dwell in outward things, but within the soul.

This poor world, the object of so much insane attachment, we are about to leave; it is but misery, vanity, and folly; a phantom--the very fashion of which "passeth away.

How does our will become sanctified? By conforming itself unreservedly to that of God.

Pity enlarges the heart.

Worry is the cross which we make for ourselves by over anxiety.

Be content with doing calmly the little which depends upon yourself, and let all else be to you as if it were not.