This God who, as the psalmist said, built His tabernacles in the sun, now establishes Himself in the very core of the flesh and the blood.

The man who partakes in the breaking of the bread dares to build his house on the very core of love. He becomes, as it were, Godlike, but regardless of the strength he derives from it, his free will remains. We are always free to disown this immense grace, to abuse it. The Greatest Love may be betrayed. Fed on the Living Bread, we nevertheless conceal a part of ourselves which longs for swine's food.

The Eucharist engages us unreservedly; it is a pact of love, an alliance signed in the deeper recesses of our being. All our potentialities are called upon to warrant the protection and fulfillment of this pact.

A man's passion for the mountain is, above all, his childhood which refuses to die.

No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever.

If you would tell me the heart of a man, tell me not what he reads, but what he rereads.

Doubt is nothing but a trivial agitation on the surface of the soul, while deep down there is a calm certainty.