God is a shower to the heart burned up with grief; God is a sun to the face deluged with tears.
The folly which we might have ourselves committed is the one which we are least ready to pardon in another.
No labor is hopeless.
We love justice greatly, and just men but little.
Everything that is exquisite hides itself.
The Holy Scriptures praise the dew of the morning and the dew of the evening; ros matutinum, ros serotinum! Happy is he who possesses the gift of tears! when young, he will bear flowers; when old, fruit!