He Who Labours, Prays.

Late Have I Loved Thee, O Lord; And Behold, Thou Wast Within And I Without, And There I Sought Thee. Thou Was With Me When I Was Not With Thee. Thou Didst Call, And Cry, And Burst My Deafness. Thou Didst Gleam, And Glow, And Dispell My Blindness. Thou Didst Touch Me, And I Burned For Thy Peace. For Thyself Thou Hast Made Us, And Restless Our Hearts Until In Thee They Find Their Ease. Late Have I Loved Thee, Thou Beauty Ever Old And Ever New. Thou Hast Burst My Bonds Asunder; Unto Thee Will I Offer Up An Offering Of Praise.

A Christian Man Is On His Guard With Respect To Those Who Philosophize According To The Elements Of This World, Not According To God, By Whom The World Itself Was Made; For He Is Warned By The Precept Of The Apostle And Faithfully Hears What Has Been Said, 'beware That No One Deceive You Through Philosophy And Vain Deceit, According To The Elements Of The World'

Of This I Am Certain, That No One Has Ever Died Who Was Not Destined To Die Some Time. Now The End Of Life Puts The Longest Life On A Par With The Shortest... And Of What Consequence Is It What Kind Of Death Puts An End To Life, Since He Who Has Died Once Is Not Forced To Go Through The Same Ordeal A Second Time? They, Then, Who Are Destined To Die, Need Not Be Careful To Inquire What Death They Are To Die, But Into What Place Death Will Usher Them.

What Is Held By The Whole Church, And That Not As Instituted By Councils, But As A Matter Of Invariable Custom, Is Rightly Held To Have Been Handed Down By Authority.

Love Has Reasons That Reason Knows Not.