The unqualified truth is that when I loved Estella with the love of a man I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. Once for all I knew to my sorrow often and often if not always that I loved her against reason against promise against peace against hope against happiness against all discouragement that could be. Once for all I love her none the less because I knew it and it had no more influence in restraining me than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.

Whether you teach or live in the cloister or nurse the sick whether you are in religion or out of it married or single no matter who you are or what you are you are called to the summit of perfection you are called to a deep interior life perhaps even to mystical prayer and to pass the fruits of your contemplation on to others. And if you cannot do so by word then by example.Yet if this sublime fire of infused love burns in your soul it will inevitably send forth throughout the Church and the world an influence more tremendous than could be estimated by the radius reached by words or by example.

An accumulation of pennies is a fortune. Day-to-day practice is perfection. A dream realized is nothing more than many steps taken toward the borders of once-impossible.

We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful poetic and absurd. We find in all these records of the past philosophies and dreams and efforts stained with tears of great and tender souls who tried to pierce the mystery of life and death to answer the eternal questions of the Whence and Whither and vainly sought to make with bits of shattered glass a mirror that would in very truth reflect the face and form of Natures perfect self.These myths were born of hopes and fears and tears and smiles and they were touched and colored by all there is of joy and grief between the rosy dawn of birth and deaths sad night. They clothed even the stars with passion and gave to gods the faults and frailties of the sons of men. In them the winds and waves were music and all the lakes and streams and springsthe mountains woods and perfumed dells were haunted by a thousand fairy forms. They thrilled the veins of Spring with tremulous desire made tawny Summers billowed breast the throne and home of love filled Autumns arms with sun-kissed grapes and gathered sheaves and pictured Winter as a weak old king who felt like Lear upon his withered face Cordelias tears. These myths though false are beautiful and have for many ages and in countless ways enriched the heart and kindled thought. But if the world were taught that all these things are true and all inspired of God and that eternal punishment will be the lot of him who dares deny or doubt the sweetest myth of all the Fable World would lose its beauty and become a scorned and hateful thing to every brave and thoughtful man.

Keep going even when the going is slow and uncertain.Make your dream your prayer and your service.Dont wait for recognition. Let it find you working. Romanticize authenticity instead of perfection.