It is the perpetual dread of fear, the fear of fear, that shapes the face of a brave man.
Georges Bernanos (1888 - 1948)
Contributed by: Zaady
Hell, madame, is to love no longer.
Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.
It's a fine thing to rise above pride, but you must have pride in order to do so.
A thought which does not result in an action is nothing much, and an action which does not proceed from a thought is nothing at all.
Source: The Last Essays of Georges Bernanos, 1955
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