To love Christ more, is the deepest need, the constant cry of my soul Out in the woods and on my bed and out driving, when I am happy and busy, and when I am sad and idle, the whisper keeps going up for more love, more love, more love!

The best convent for a woman is the seclusion of her own home. There she may find her vocation and fight her battles, and there she may learn the reality and the earnestness of life.

Go home and say to yourself, ‘I am a wayward, foolish child. But He loves me! I have disobeyed and grieved Him ten thousand times. But He loves me! I have lost faith in some of my dearest friends and am very desolate. But He loves me! I do not love Him, I am even angry with Him! But He loves me!

If the loss of your fortune gains Christ for you, it will be a beautiful loss.

O happy life! life hid with Christ in God! So making me At home and by the wayside and abroad, Alone with Thee.

No truth can be said to be seen as it is until it is seen in its relation to all other truths. In this relation only is it true.

Ah, what a life is theirs who live in Christ How vast the mystery! Reaching in height to heaven, and in its depth The unfathomed sea!

We must be wise taskmasters and not require of ourselves what we cannot possibly perform. Recreation we must have. Otherwise, the strings of our soul, wound up to an unnatural tension, will break.

Some of His children must go into the furnace to testify that the Son of God is there with them.

It sweetens every bit of work to think that I am doing it in humble, far-off, yet real imitation of Jesus.

I am not sure that it is best for us, once safe and secure on the Rock of Ages, to ask ourselves too closely what this and that experience may signify. Is it not better to be thinking of the Rock, not of the feet that stand upon it?