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Like many another brilliant mind, his had habitually operated in flashes of insight, often painfully, always laboriously followed up and consolidated.

“… the pride of man is nowhere so insidious as in the lust of the mind.”

One of the opinions of the brothers regarding knowledge and logic… is it correct?

He knew without putting it into words that both order and inspiration, impulse and authority, however the limited vision of men might bring them into conflict, were essential aspects of the life of the church, were the warp and the woof of the seamless robe of Christ.

Giolotti spoke very quietly, “Messer Jacomo, pride is the last of all the devils.”

“Nay,” said Jacomo,”it is self [lack of obedience?]…”

He had worn this human misery of the aching bone and the shivering hide and the empty belly; he had worn it, and he had made it a holy thing.

…in the daily battle with the elements, he presently found himself sloughing off some of the more delicate preoccupations and exigencies of the refined consciousness of his class.

There is no lady so rich and so bountiful as this Lady Poverty, for she opens the gates of heaven.

… we know, even the youngest of us, that though we gathered the harvest, we did not give it. It is God who gave it to us out of the fullness of his mercy.

We could, having been made in God‘s image, be restored, and these are brethren [squirrel, tree, etc.], were not made in His image. And yet His hands have touched them, and it was Our Lord Himself, who said that God sustained even the least of these.

… it is not the glory of Saint Francis, but the littleness of Saint Francis that you should remember. You are not members of a rich and mighty order, but you are poor little brothers. Nothing on earth is so poor or so low as to be below you.

“You might have had a post at the Emperor‘s court,“ said his brother. “I am going to try for a very low seat in heaven,“ replied Jacomo…

But I don’t want to be a bishop or cardinal or pope, my brother. I am giving up the world, not taking it on from another angle.

…pain…is like the dark entrance into the great house of a lord.

Little daughter, God hath given you the company of my beloved sister Pain. Men say that pain is a great evil, and they try to flee from it, but you and I, little daughter, know better than that… God hath given you many good things…but there is a greater gift than any of these…Pain.

What could these priests know of this beauty that they gave so calmly to the dust?

It takes all manner of men to serve all the sons of Holy Mother the Church…

Bernard Meyer (of Brooklyn, IA) and Francis Ford (Iowan mother) were of the first group of missionaries sent out by Maryknoll.

He was humble and gentle in success, never depressed in honest failure, never hypnotized by the cult of novelty.

Father Walsh realized that what is unknown does not attract. “Every cause should have a literature,” he believed.

He called his son over and said,”Francis, read this book. Here is a man for you. Be a man like this.”

Materialist history is the most madly, incredible of all histories, or even of all romances. Whatever starts wars, the thing that sustains wars is something in the soul; that is something akin to religion. It is what men feel about life and death.

The temptation of the philosophers is simplicity rather than subtlety. They are always attracted by insane simplifications…

…we might almost say men are born mad. They scarcely reach sanity till they reach sanctity.

The rivers of mythology and philosophy run parallel, and do not mingle till they meet in the sea of Christendom.

The substance of all such paganism may be summarize thus. It is an attempt to reach the divine reality through the imagination alone…

…he who has no sympathy with myths has no sympathy with men.

It is really the collapse of comparative religion that there is no comparison between God and the gods.

The God who could not have a statue remained a spirit.

Now that God became man, our making statues does not impede God’s ability to ro remain a spirit.

If the world becomes pagan and perishes, the last man left alive would do well to quote the Iliad and die.

All of pgs. 212-213 are masterful; revisit.

…the primary problem of liberty and civilization. It is the fact that men actually lose variety by complexity.