soul to enter into the palace of dreams.

God is behind everything, but everything hides God. Things are
black, creatures are opaque. To love a being is to render that being
transparent.

Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the
attitude of the body may be, the soul is on its knees.

Parted lovers beguile absence by a thousand chimerical devices, which
possess, however, a reality of their own. They are prevented from seeing
each other, they cannot write to each other; they discover a multitude
of mysterious means to correspond. They send each other the song of the
birds, the perfume of the flowers, the smiles of children, the light of
the sun, the sighings of the breeze, the rays of stars, all creation.
And why not? All the works of God are made to serve love. Love is
sufficiently potent to charge all nature with its messages.

Oh Spring! Thou art a letter that I write to her.

The future belongs to hearts even more than it does to minds. Love, that
is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. In the infinite,
the inexhaustible is requisite.

Love participates of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like
it, it is the divine spark; like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible,
imperishable. It is a point of fire that exists within us, which is
immortal and infinite, which nothing can confine, and which nothing can
extinguish. We feel it burning even to the very marrow of our bones, and
we see it beaming in the very depths of heaven.

Oh Love! Adorations! voluptuousness of two minds which understand each
other, of two hearts which exchange with each other, of two glances
which penetrate each other! You will come to me, will you not, bliss!
strolls by twos in the solitudes! Blessed and radiant days! I have
sometimes dreamed that from time to time hours detached themselves from
the lives of the angels and came here below to traverse the destinies of
men.

God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love, except to give
them endless duration. After a life of love, an eternity of love is, in
fact, an augmentation; but to increase in intensity even the ineffable
felicity which love bestows on the soul even in this world, is
impossible, even to God. God is the plenitude of heaven; love is the
plenitude of man.

You look at a star for two reasons, because it is luminous, and because
it is impenetrable. You have beside you a sweeter radiance and a greater
mys