“The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.”

Let us not be justices of the peace, but angels of peace.

Above the clouds the sky is always blue.

Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love.

Love is a universe of its own, comprising all time and space.

Even now I know it: yes, all my hopes will be fulfilled… yes… the Lord will work wonders for me which will surpass infinitely my immeasurable desires.

How happy I am to see myself as imperfect and to be in need of God’s mercy.

A word or a smile is often enough to put fresh life in a despondent soul.

True charity consists in putting up with all one’s neighbors fault’s; never being surprised by his weakness, and being inspired by the least of his virtues.

Love consumes us only in the measure of our self-surrender.

Perfection consists in doing His will, in being that which He wants us to be.

The country in which I live is not my native country, that lies elsewhere, and it must always be the center of my longings.

What a joy to remember that she is our Mother! Since she loves us and knows our weakness, what have we to fear?

Life is only a dream: soon, we shall awaken. And what joy! The greater our sufferings, the more limitless our glory. Oh! do not let us waste the trial Jesus sends.

Jesus does not demand great actions from us, but simply surrender and gratitude.

It isn’t enough to love; we must prove it.

The value of life does not depend upon the place we occupy. It depends upon the way we occupy that place.

Raindrops blossom brilliantly in the rainbow, and change to flowers in the sod, but snow comes in full flower direct from the dark, frozen sky.

Of all the flowers, me thinks a rose is best.

If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers.

I am dead to them, even though I once flowered.

With freedom, flowers, books, and the moon, who could not be perfectly happy?

Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.

For every drop of rain, a flower grows.

Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.