Quote

The Christian's God is a God of metamorphoses. You cast grief into his bosom: you draw thence, peace. You cast in despair: 'tis hope that rises to the surface. It is a sinner whose heart he moves. It is a saint who returns him thanks.

Sophie Swetchine

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Sophie Swetchine
Age: 74 †
Born: 1782
Born: November 22
Died: 1857
Died: September 10
Diarist
Lady-In-Waiting
Salonnière
Writer
Moscow
Russian SFSR
Sofia Petrovna Soymonova
Madame Swetchine
Swetchine
Anne Sophie Swetchine
Christian
Draws
Sinner
Moving
God
Moves
Metamorphoses
Heart
Despair
Cast
Thence
Grief
Casts
Metamorphosis
Whose
Thanks
Bosom
Return
Draw
Bosoms
Peace
Saint
Rises
Hope
Surface
Returns

More quotes by Sophie Swetchine

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What is resignation? It is putting God between one's self and one's grief.
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True poets, like great artists, have scarcely any childhood, and no old age.
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It would seem that by our sorrows only are we called to a knowledge of the Infinite. Are we happy? The limits of life constrain us on all sides.
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I love victory, but I love not triumph.
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Resignation is, to some extent, spoiled for me by the fact that it is so entirely conformable to the laws of common-sense. I should like just a little more of the supernatural in the practice of my favorite virtue.
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People read every thing nowadays, except books.
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We expect everything and are prepared for nothing.
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Men are always invoking justice yet it is justice which should make them tremble.
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The symptoms of compassion and benevolence, in some people, are like those minute guns which warn you that you are in deadly peril.
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We do not judge men by what they are in themselves, but by what they are relatively to us.
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Providence has hidden a charm in difficult undertakings, which is appreciated only by those who dare to grapple with them.
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Indulgence is lovely in the sinless toleration, adorable in the pious and believing heart.
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Let us shun everything, which might tend to efface the primitive lineaments of our individuality. Let us reflect that each one of us is a thought of God.
Sophie Swetchine
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Our faults afflict us more than our good deeds console. Pain is ever uppermost in the conscience as in the heart.
Sophie Swetchine
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The most culpable of the excesses of Liberty is the harm she does herself.
Sophie Swetchine
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To have ideas is to gather flowers to think is to weave them into garlands.
Sophie Swetchine
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The very might of the human intellect reveals its limits.
Sophie Swetchine
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There are words which are worth as much as the best actions, for they contain the germ of them all.
Sophie Swetchine
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We are often prophets to others only because we are our own historians.
Sophie Swetchine
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We deceive ourselves when we fancy that only weakness needs support. Strength needs it far more.
Sophie Swetchine