The 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.

The symptoms of compassion and benevolence, in some people, are like those minute guns which warn you that you are in deadly peril.

The root of sanctity is sanity. A man must be healthy before he can be holy. We bathe first, and then perfume.

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?"

I can understand the things that afflict mankind, but I often marvel at God those which console. An atom may wound, but God alone can heal.

Piety softens all that courage bears.

Let us resist the opinion of the world fearlessly, provided only that our self-respect grows in proportion to our indifference.