It is certain that man never achieves a clear knowledge of himself unless he has first looked upon God's face, and then descends from contemplating him to scrutinize himself.
Love knows no winter; no, no! It is, and remains the sign of spring.
He who considers himself a paragon of wisdom is sure to commit some superlatively stupid act.
Time passes cold and indifferent over us; it knows nothing of our joys or sorrows; it leads us with ice-cold hand deeper and deeper into the labyrinth.
Who cannot but see oftentimes how strange the threads of our destiny run? Oft it is only for a moment the favorable instant is presented. We miss it, and months and years are lost.
He is not dead who departs from life with a high and noble fame; but he is dead, even while living, whose brow is branded with infamy.
He who does not love flowers has lost all love and fear of God.
Ordinary love is selfish, darkly rooted in desires and satisfactions. Divine love is without condition, without boundary, without change. The flux of the human heart is gone forever at the transfixing touch of pure love.
Books are a world in themselves, it is true; but they are not the only world. The world itself is a volume larger than all the libraries in it.
There is a grace of kind listening, as well as a grace of kind speaking.
I'd rather have two girls at 21 each than one girl at 42.