My sole defense against the natural horror which death inspires is to love beyond it.
Sophie SwetchineThe Christian's God is a God of metamorphoses. You cast grief into his bosom: you draw thence, peace. You cast in despair: 'tis hope that rises to the surface. It is a sinner whose heart he moves. It is a saint who returns him thanks.
Sophie SwetchineFaith, amid the disorders of a sinful life, is like the lamp burning in an ancient tomb.
Sophie Swetchine