Only the soul that loves is happy
He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home.
Words are mere sound and smoke, dimming the heavenly light.
Nature is so perfect that the Trinity couldn't have fashioned her any more perfect. She is an organ on which our Lord plays and the devil works the bellows.
Nothing is more damaging to the truth than an old error.
Faith is a homely, private capital; as there are public savings-banks and poor funds, out of which in times of want we can relieve the necessities of individuals, so here the faithful take their coin in peace.