Good wherever we seek it.
As a bee can extract pure honey from the blossoms of some plants whose leaves are poisonous, so some souls can nourish themselves only with the holier and more ethereal parts of popular belief.
Naïveté.
“Blessed are the flowers of God that grow in cool solitudes, and have never been profaned by the hot sun and dust of this world.”
Sorrow a preparation for love.
Never does love strike so deep and immediate a root as in a sorrowful and desolated nature; there it has nothing to dispute the soil, and soon fills it with its interlacing fibre.
Sunshine of the heart.