There is, by God's grace, an immeasurable distance between late and too late.

Silence is like nightfall. Objects are lost in it insensibly.

Youth should be a savings bank.

Might we not say to the confused voices which sometimes arise from the depths of our being: "Ladies, be so kind as to speak only four at a time?"

Let us not fail to scatter along our pathway the seeds of kindness and sympathy. Some of them will doubtless perish; but if one only lives, it will perfume our steps and rejoice our eyes.

It would seem that by our sorrows only are we called to a knowledge of the Infinite. Are we happy? The limits of life constrain us on all sides.

If it were ever allowable to forget what is due to superiority of rank, it would be when the privileged themselves remember it.