“Among the many signs of a lively faith and hope we have in eternal life, one of the surest is not being overly sad at the death of those whom we dearly love in our Lord.”

Considering that the blessed life we so long for consists in an intimate and true love of God Our Creator and Lord, which binds and obliges us all to a sincere love.

The more completely we focus our attention on our Creator and Lord, the less chance there is of our being distracted by creatures.

We should not have a petty regard for God’s gifts, though we may and should despise our own imperfections.

If one fears men much he will never do anything great for God: all that one does for God arouses persecution.

Idleness is hells fishhook for catching souls.

God our Lord would have us look to the Giver and love Him more than His gift, keeping Him always before our eyes, in our hearts, and in our thoughts.

A person with imprecise ideas can understand little and be of less help to others.

To conquer himself is the greatest victory that man can gain.

Let your modesty be a sufficient incitement, yea, an exhortation to everyone to be at peace on their merely looking at you.

He who carries God in his heart bears Heaven with him wherever he goes.

Teach us to give and not to count the cost.

God will not be outdone in generosity.

Be generous to the poor orphans and those in need. The man to whom our Lord has been liberal ought not to be stingy. We shall one day find in Heaven as much rest and joy as we ourselves have dispensed in this life.

It is one thing to be eloquent and charming in profane speech, and another when the one speaking as a religious.

SPIRITUAL EXERCISES whereby to conquer oneself, and order one’s life, without being influenced in one’s decision by any inordinate affection.

He who has heard the Word of God can bear his silences.

We never lose the people we love, even to death.

I had reasoned this out in my mind; there was on of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other; for no man should take me alive.

Death is a release from the impressions of the senses, and from desires that make us their puppets, and from the vagaries of the mind, and from the hard service of the flesh.

Even in the grave, all is not lost.

Our life is made by the death of others.

Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die.

Sleep, those little slices of death – how I loathe them.

I feel sad that he’s just a voice now.