The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.

I realized that to become a saint one must suffer a great deal, always seek what is best, and forget oneself.

My vocation, at last I have found it; my vocation is love.

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

If you are willing to bear serenely the trial of being displeasing to yourself, then you will be for Jesus a pleasant place of shelter.

For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy.

It isn't enough to love; we must prove it.