The scapegoat has always had the mysterious power of unleashing man's ferocious pleasure in torturing, corrupting, and befouling.

The man who partakes in the breaking of the bread dares to build his house on the very core of love. He becomes, as it were, Godlike, but regardless of the strength he derives from it, his free will remains. We are always free to disown this immense grace, to abuse it. The Greatest Love may be betrayed. Fed on the Living Bread, we nevertheless conceal a part of ourselves which longs for swine's food.

That is the mystery of grace: it never comes too late.

Human love is often but the encounter of two weaknesses.

No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever.

To love someone is to see a miracle invisible to others.