A cloud of incense was rising on high; the people suddenly all bowed low; what could it mean? The truth flashed on him, fearfully yet sweetly; it was the Blessed Sacrament - it was the Lord Incarnate who was on the altar, who had come to visit and bless his people. It was the Great Presence, which makes a Catholic Church different from every other place in the world; which makes it, as no other place can be - holy.

I toast the Pope, but I toast conscience first.

Great things are done by devotion to one idea.

Conscience is the aboriginal Vicar of Christ.

Knowledge is one thing, virtue is another.

I wonder what day I shall die on - one passes year by year over one's death day, as one might pass over one's grave.

With Christians, a poetical view of things is a duty. We are bid to color all things with hues of faith, to see a divine meaning in every event.