“If you would know whether you have made a good confession, ask yourself I you have resolved to abandon your sins.”

Prayer is a wine which makes glad the heart of man

What I know of the divine sciences and Holy Scriptures, I learned in woods and fields. I have no other masters than the beeches and the oaks.

Many of those who are humiliated are not humble. Some react to humiliation with anger, others with patience, and others with freedom. The first are culpable, the next harmless, the last just.

My child, seek those things which make for peace. Cease to stir up the King against the Church, and urge upon him a better course of action. If you will promise to do this, I in return promise to entreat the merciful Lord to grant you offspring.

There is no greater misery than false joys.

From the best bliss that earth imparts, we turn unfilled to Thee again.

Let us not imagine that we obscure the glory of the Son by the great praise we lavish on the Mother; for the more she is honored, the greater is the glory of her Son. There can be no doubt that whatever we say in praise of the Mother gives equal praise to the Son.

Love is alone sufficient by itself, it pleases by itself and for it’s own sake. It is itself a merit, and itself it’s own recompense. It seeks neither cause, nor consequences beyond itself. It is its own fruit, its own object and usefulness. I love because I love you, I love that I may love.

Prostrate, see Thy cross I grasp,And Thy pierced feet I clasp;Gracious Jesus, spurn me not;On me, with compassion fraught.

I have no other masters than the beeches and the oaks.

Let Thy glances fall.Thy cross of agony,My Beloved, look on me;Turn me wholly unto Thee;”Be thou whole,” say openly:”I forgive thee all.

It is no great thing to be humble when you are brought low; but to be humble when you are praised is a great and rare attainment.

It is a fault, not a virtue, to wish your humility recognized and applauded.

Believe one who has tried, you shall find a fuller satisfaction in the woods than in the books. The trees and the rocks will teach you that which you cannot hear from the masters.

Vines and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters.

Inordinate love for the flesh is cruelty, because under the appearance of pleasing the body, we kill the soul.

As no roads are so rough as those that have just been mended, so no sinners are so intolerant as those that have just turned saints.

The dress does not make the monk.

Let’s get on our knees and pray. I don’t know to whom. Is there a patron saint of ballistics gel?

A tree is like a saint. It calls no one to itself, nor does it send anyone away. It offers to protect everyone who wants to come to it, whether this be a man, a woman, a child, or an animal.

A saint abroad, and a devil at home.

The test of love is in how one relates not to saints and scholars but to rascals.

Forgiveness is a game only saints play Kabir.

And I myself a Catholic will be, So far at least, great saint, to pray to thee. Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow On us, the Poets militant below.