France Lost A Great Novel Last Night.

There Is A Determined Though Unseen Bravery That Defends Itself Foot By Foot In The Darkness Against The Fatal Invasions Of Necessity And Dishonesty. Noble And Mysterious Triumphs That No Eye Sees, And No Fame Rewards, And No Flourish Of Triumph Salutes. Life, Misfortunes, Isolation, Abandonment, Poverty, Are Battlefields That Have Their Heroes; Obscure Heroes, Sometimes Greater Than The Illustrious Heroes.

The Man Is Placed Where The Earth Ends, The Woman, Where The Heaven Starts.

To A Gargoyle On The Ramparts Of Notre Dame As Esmeralda Rides Off With Gringoire Quasimodo Says. "why Was I Not Made Of Stone Like Thee?

One Only Needs To See A Smile In A White Crape Bonnet In Order To Enter The Palace Of Dreams.

As For Methods Of Prayer, All Of Them Are Good As Long As They Are Sincere.