On the secretly blushing cheek is reflected the glow of the heart

Certainty... lurks at the door of faith and threatens to devour it.

In the eyes of God, the infinite spirit, all the millions that have lived and now live do not make a crowd. He only sees each individual

To be a saint is to will the one thing.

Human relations are like the irregular verbs in a number of languages where nearly all verbs are irregular.

If I am capable of grasping God objectively, I do not believe, but precisely because I cannot do this I must believe. If I wish to preserve myself in faith I must constantly be intent upon holding fast the objective uncertainty so as to remain out upon the deep, over seventy thousand fathoms of water, still preserving my faith.

Boredom is the root of all evil - the despairing refusal to be oneself.