Well, for us, in history where goodness is a rare pearl, he who was good almost takes precedence over he who was great.

Almost all our desires, when examined, contain something too shameful to reveal.

A bird sings, a child prattles, but it is the same hymn; hymn indistinct, inarticulate, but full of profound meaning.

Woe, alas, to those who have loved only bodies, forms, appearances! Death will rob them of everything. Try to love souls, you will find them again.

There is suffering in the light; in excess it burns. Flame is hostile to the wing. To burn and yet to fly, this is the miracle of genius.

What love commences can be finished by God alone.

Wisdom is the health of the soul.