God utters me like a word containing a partial thought of him. A word will never be able to comprehend the voice that utters it. But if I am true to the concept that God utters in me, if I am true to the thought of Him that I was meant to embody, I shall be full of his actuality and find him everywhere in myself, and find myself nowhere.

I have learned that one cannot truly know hope unless he has found out how like despair hope is.

For the ones who are called saints by human opinion on earth may very well be devils, and their light may very well be darkness

What is the use of praying if at the very moment of prayer, we have so little confidence in God that we are busy planning our own kind of answer to our prayer?

The most awful tyranny is that of the proximate Utopia where the last sins are currently being eliminated and where, tomorrow, there will be no more sins because all the sinners will have been wiped out.

Prayer and love are really learned in the hour when prayer becomes impossible and your heart turns to stone.

O love-why can't you leave me alone? Which is a rhetorical question meaning: for heaven's sake, don't.