Whose hands are God's hands, but our hands?

At last there dawned the most beautiful day of all the days of my life. How perfectly I remember even the smallest details of those sacred hours! The joyful awakening, the reverent and tender embraces of my mistresses and older companions, the room filled with white frocks, like so many snowflakes, where each child was dressed in turn.

I am convinced that one should tell one's spiritual director if one has a great desire for Communion, for Our Lord does not come from Heaven every day to stay in a golden ciborium; He comes to find another heaven, the heaven of our soul in which He loves to dwell.

My soul experienced a peace so sweet, so deep, it would be impossible to express it.

No harm can come to me since, in whatever happens, I see only the tender hand of Jesus.

nobody is a good judge in his own cause!

Love is the Cross, and the Cross is Love.