In joined hands there is still some token of hope, in the clenched fist none.

In love, such a word, whispered, is a mysterious kiss of the soul to the soul.

What love commences can be finished by God alone.

Who then understands the reciprocal flux and reflux of the infinitely great and the infinitely small, the echoing of causes in the abysses of being, and the avalanches of creation?

The delight we inspire in others has this enchanting peculiarity that, far from being diminished like every other reflection, it returns to us more radiant than ever.

That men saw his mask, but the bishop saw his face. That men saw his life, but the bishop saw his conscience.

The onward march of the human race requires that the heights around it constantly blaze with noble lessons of courage. Deeds of daring dazzle history and form one of man's guiding lights.