“To want to become angels while we are still on earth is ridiculous.”

It constantly happens that the Lord permits a soul to fall so that it may grow humbler.

Our souls may lose their peace and even disturb other people’s, if we are always criticizing trivial actions – which often are not real defects at all, but we construe them wrongly through our ignorance of their motives.

Souls who do not practice prayer are like people whose limbs are paralyzed.

No one should think or say anything of another which he would not wish thought or said of himself.

It is love alone that gives worth to all things.

All things pass; Patience attains all it strives for.

In a state of grace, the soul is like a well of limpid water, from which flow only streams of clearest crystal. Its works are pleasing both to God and man, rising from the River of Life, beside which it is rooted like a tree.

How poor is the wisdom of men, and how uncertain their forecast!

It is impossible for human tongue to exaggerate the riches which a vision from God brings to the soul: it even bestows health and refreshment on the body.

To reach something good it is very useful to have gone astray, and thus acquire experience.

Consider seriously how quickly people change, and how little trust is to be had in them; and hold fast to God, Who does not change.

In light of heaven, the worst suffering on earth will be seen to be no more serious than one night in an inconvenient hotel.

From moment to moment one can bear much.

May I not come before You with empty hands, since we are rewarded according to our deeds.

When we accept what happens to us and make the best of it, we are praising God.

Love draws forth love.

Do not give up if you get an opportunity to please someone, they are the angels who can give a grin on someone’s face.

The savior who wants to turn men into angels is as much a hater of human nature as the totalitarian despot who wants to turn them into puppets.

She kissed me just right, like only a lonely angel can.

So when that Angel of the darker Drink, at last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul forth to your Lips to quaff-you shall not shrink.

Make sure to send a lazy man the angel of death.

The Truth has shared so much of Itself with me That I can no longer call myself A man, a woman, an angel, Or even pure Soul.

Nobody knows if Zidane is an angel or demon. He smiles like Saint Teresa and grimaces like a serial killer.

You have actually waltzed with tremendous style, my sweet, O my sweet, crushed angel.