Our Body Has This Defect That, The

A Soul Which Gives Itself To Prayer, Either Much Or Little, Should On No Account Be Kept Within Narrow Bounds.

Let Him Never Cease From Prayer Who Has Once Begun It, Be His Life Ever So Wicked; For Prayer Is The Way To Amend It, And Without Prayer Such Amendment Will Be Much More Difficult.

Granting That We Are Always In The Presence Of God, Yet It Seems To Me That Those Who Pray Are In His Presence In A Very Different Sense; For They, As It Were, See That He Is Looking Upon Them, While Others May Go For Days On End Without Even Once Recollecting That God Sees Them.

In A State Of Grace, The Soul Is Like A Well Of Limpid Water, From Which Flow Only Streams Of Clearest Crystal. Its Works Are Pleasing Both To God And Man, Rising From The River Of Life, Beside Which It Is Rooted Like A Tree.

God Is Even Kinder Than You Think.