Thus the ordinary, uncontrolled chattering we call “prose” changes its nature, like coal becoming incandescent. Poetry resembles music. - Thérèse of Lisieux

Let me suppose that I had been born in a land of thick fogs, and had never seen the beauties of nature, or a single ray of sunshine, although I had heard of these wonders from my early youth, and knew that the country wherein I dwelt was not my real home — there was another land, unto which I should always look forward. Now this is not a fable, invented by an inhabitant of the land of fogs, it is the solemn truth, for the King of that sunlit country dwelt for three and thirty years in the land of darkness, and alas! — the darkness did not understand that He was the Light of the World.
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From the time of my childhood I felt that one day I should be set free from this land of darkness. I believed it, not only because I had been told so by others, but my heart's most secret and deepest longings assured me that there was in store for me another and more beautiful country — an abiding dwelling-place.

And I know that all that multitude of sins would disappear in an instant, even as a drop of water cast into a flaming furnace.d'Elbée, Jean du Coeur de Jésus

is more profitable to leave everyone to his way of thinking than to give way to contentious discourses.