God Has No Hands Or Feet Or

All Things Must Come To The Soul From Its Roots, From Where It Is Planted.

Let Nothing Disturb Thee; Let Nothing Dismay Thee; All Things Pass; God Never Changes. Patience Attains All That It Strives For.

While The Soul Is In Mortal Sin, Nothing Can Profit It; None Of Its Good Works Merit An Eternal Reward, Since They Do Not Proceed From God As Their First Principle, And By Him Alone Is Our Virtue Real Virtue.

O My God, What Must A Soul Be Like When It Is In This State! It Longs To Be All One Tongue With Which To Praise The Lord. It Utters A Thousand Pious Follies, In A Continuous Endeavor To Please Him Who Thus Possesses It.

That Is How His Majesty [the Lord] Rewards Our Good Works---i Mean, By Predisposing Us To Perform Better Ones.