Technological society has succeeded in multiplying the opportunities for pleasure, but it has great difficulty in generating joy.

The work of art, just like any fragment of human life considered in its deepest meaning, seems to me devoid of value if it does not offer the hardness, the rigidity, the regularity, the luster on every interior and exterior facet, of the crystal.

The world calls for, and expects from us, simplicity of life, the spirit of prayer, charity towards all, especially towards the lowly and the poor, obedience and humility, detachment, and self-sacrifice. Without this mark of holiness, our word will have difficulty in touching the heart of modern man.

I met a hundred men going to Delhi, and every one is my brother.

Are there memories left that are safe from the clutches of phony anniversaries?