Christ could be born a thousand times in Galilee - but all in vain until He is born in me.
I am as vast as God; there is nothing in the world
O Miracle: that can shut me up in myself.
The rose has no 'Why?' It flowers because it flowers.
Don't think that some tomorrow you'll see God's Light. You see it now or err in darkest night.
The rose that with you earthly eyes you see, has flowered in God from all eternity.
The Rose is without 'why'—she blooms because she blooms.
The rose does not have a why; it blossums without reason, forgetful of self and oblivious to our vision.
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