The Most Dangerous Of Our Calculations Are

What Does It Matter, All Is Grace.

If Hell Has No Answer For The Questioning Dead, It Is Not Because It Refuses To Answer (for Rigorous, Alas, In Observance, Is The Imperishable Fire), But It Is Because Hell Has Nothing To Say, Will Say Nothing Eternally.

All Her Life She [chantal] Had Been Carefully, Heroically Watching Over Mediocre Beings Who Were Hardly Real, Over Things Of No Value.

The Contradictions In Renan , His Feminine Sensibility, Coquetry, Unavowed Egotism, And Sudden Emotional Outbursts, All Indicate A Soul Deliberately Using Distraction As A Means Of Evasion. The Perpetual Equivocation Bears Witness To God In The Same Way As The Twisting And Turning Of A Hunted Animal Indicates The Presence Of An Unseen Hunter.

Like All Truly Pure Souls She [chantal] Quickly Resigned Herself To Past Faults, Thought Only Of How To Repair Whatever Harm They Had Done. "of All My Daughters, You Are Certainly The Least Bothered By Scruples Of Conscience," Abbé Chevance Used To Say.... Even Sin, Once The Will Is Detached And No Longer Nourishes It, Withers And Dies Sterile. It Is In The Secret Of Intentions, Like In A Decomposing Humus, In The Dark Forest Of Future Sins, Unpardoned Sins, Half Dead, Half Living, That New Poisons Are Distilled.