“At the evening of life, we shall be judged on our love.”

My spirit has become dry because it forgets to feed on You.

It is great wisdom to know how to be silent and to look at neither the remarks, nor the deeds, nor the lives of others.

Silence is God’s first language.

In the inner stillness where meditation leads, the Spirit secretly anoints the soul and heals our deepest wounds.

All the powers of soul and body, memory, understanding, and will, interior and exterior senses, the desires of spirit and of sense, all workin and by love.

When there is no love, pour in love and you shall draw out love.

Faith is a dark night for man, but in this very way it gives him light.

God is a dark night to man in this life.

If it were given to a man to see virtue’s reward in the next world, he would occupy his intellect, memory and will in nothing but good works, careless of danger or fatigue.

Live as though only God and yourself were in this world, so that your heart may not be detained by anything human.

A Christian should always remember that the value of his good works is not based on their number and excellence, but on the love of God which prompts him to do these things.

Have a great love for those who contradict and fail to love you, for in this way love is begotten in a heart that has no love.

Strive always to confess your sins with a deep knowledge of your own wretchedness and with clarity and purity.

The purest suffering bears and carries in its train the purest understanding.

In sorrow and suffering, go straight to God with confidence, and you will be strengthened, enlightened and instructed.

In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God.

One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.

From her glass of red wine she takes a sip of the evening sun.

Man’s wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.

It was a magical evening that started with chocolate strawberries, following with ripples of kisses and her sweet smile, wishing this night would last longer lets just stay awhile.

I spend every evening praying for the dawn.

Good kids are like sunsets. We take them for granted. Every evening they disappear. Most parents never imagine how hard they try to please us, and how miserable they feel when they think they have failed.

For I have known them all already, known them all—Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

I screamed and cried but only because i wanted to make this right. Instead, I sat alone, shivering watching the evening turn into night.