We Know Well Only What We Are

To Love Someone Is To See A Miracle Invisible To Others.

Let Us Be Wary Of Ready-made Ideas About Cowardice And Courage: The Same Burden Weighs Infinitely More Heavily On Some Shoulders Than On Others.

We Know Well Only What We Are Deprived Of.

No Love, No Friendship, Can Cross The Path Of Our Destiny Without Leaving Some Mark On It Forever.

It Seems That, After Nineteen Centuries Of Extraordinary Glorification, The Small Host For Which So Many Cathedrals Have Sprung Up, The Small Host That Has Rested In Millions Of Breasts And That Has Found A Tabernacle And Worshippers Even In The Desert - It Seems That The Triumphant Host Of Lourdes And The Eucharistic Congresses Of Chicago And Carthage Remains As Unknown, As Secret As When It Appeared For The First Time In A Room In Jerusalem. Light Is In The World As In The Days Of St. John The Baptist, And The World Does Not Know It