If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.

Let us rise above the things that pass away. Up above, the air is so pure. Jesus can hide Himself but we will find Him there.

Love consumes us only in the measure of our self-surrender.

Love is nourished only by sacrifices, and the more a soul refuses natural satisfactions, the stronger and more disinterested becomes her tenderness.

It is not to remain in a golden ciborium that He comes down each day from Heaven, but to find another Heaven, the Heaven of our soul in which He takes delight.

I felt it better to speak to God than about Him.

He has created the poor savage with no guide but natural law, and it is to their hearts that He deigns to stoop. They are His wild flowers whose homeliness delights Him.