Suicide Only Really Frightens Those Who Are

Fear, True Fear, Is A Savage Frenzy. Of All The Insanities Of Which We Are Capable, It Is Surely The Cruelest. There Is Naught To Equal Its Drive, And Naught Can Survive Its Thrust.

Faith Is Not A Thing Which One Loses, We Merely Cease To Shape Our Lives By It.

It Is The Perpetual Dread Of Fear, The Fear Of Fear, That Shapes The Face Of A Brave Man.

Hell, Madame, Is To Love No Longer.

Like All Truly Pure Souls She [chantal] Quickly Resigned Herself To Past Faults, Thought Only Of How To Repair Whatever Harm They Had Done. "of All My Daughters, You Are Certainly The Least Bothered By Scruples Of Conscience," Abbé Chevance Used To Say.... Even Sin, Once The Will Is Detached And No Longer Nourishes It, Withers And Dies Sterile. It Is In The Secret Of Intentions, Like In A Decomposing Humus, In The Dark Forest Of Future Sins, Unpardoned Sins, Half Dead, Half Living, That New Poisons Are Distilled.