The lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and then becomes a host, and then a master.

God has placed in each soul an apostle to lead us upon the illumined path. Yet many seek life from without, unaware that is within them.

You hate Jesus because someone from the North Country said He was the Son of God. But you hate one another because each of you deems himself too great to be the brother of the next man.

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

The best of man is he who blushes when you praise him and remains silent when you defame him.

You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.

A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain?