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...it is not enough for me to give to the one who asks, I ought to anticipate the wish; I should show myself honored by the request for service, and if anything set apart for my use be taken away I should appear glad to be rid of it.

To secure a hearing there is no need to recite set prayers composed for the occasion. . . . I have not the courage to search through books for beautiful prayers; they are so numerous, that it would only make my head ache, and besides, each one is more lovely than the other. Unable either to say them all or to choose between them, I do as a child would do who cannot read-I say just what I want to say to God, quite simply and He never fails to understand.

In times of aridity when I am incapable of praying, of practicing virtue, I seek little opportunities, mere trifles, to give pleasure to Jesus; for instance a smile, a pleasant word when inclined to be silent and to show weariness. If I find no opportunities, I at least tell Him again and again that I love Him; that is not difficult and it keeps alive the fire in my heart.

O little Jesus, my only treasure, I abandon myself to every one of Your adorable whims. I seek no other joy than that of making You smile.

O Jesus, I feel, that, if by an impossibility You could find a soul weaker than mine, You would fill it with even greater graces, provided that such a soul abandoned itself with absolute confidence to Your infinite Mercy.

The remembrance of my faults humbles me and makes me afraid to rely on my own strength, which is nothing but weakness.

I know that my heart is too weak to be an apostle, but Jesus, do lend me You Heart.

Love attracts love, mine rushes forth unto You, it would fain fill up the abyss which attracts it; but alas! It is not even as one drop of dew lost in the Ocean, to love You as You love me I must borrow Your very Love – then only, can I find rest.

I do not count on my own merits, since I have none, but I trust in Him who is Virtue and Sanctity Itself.

Our Beloved does not need our brilliant deeds nor our beautiful thoughts. If He wanted sublime concepts, has He not the angels, who surpass in knowledge the greatest geniuses of the world?

At times the little bird's heart is assailed by the storm, and it seems it should believe in the existence of no other thing except the clouds surrounding it; this is the moment of perfect joy for the poor little weak creature. And what joy it experiences when remaining there just the same! and gazing at the Invisible Light which remains hidden from its faith!

If I did not suffer from moment to moment, I would not be able to keep patience, but I see only the present moment; I forget the past and take care not to peer into the future.