In all my eighteen years I had by my mother's careful contriving never set eyes upon a woman of an age inferior to her own.

And--consider me foolish if you will but so it is--I do not think that it had occurred to me that they existed, or else, if they did, that in youth they differed materially from what in age I found them.

Thus I had come to look upon women as just feeble, timid creatures, over-prone to gossip, tears, and lamentations, and good for very little that I could perceive.
I had been unable to understand for what reason it was that San Luigi of Gonzaga had from years of discretion never allowed his eyes to rest upon a woman; nor could I see wherein lay the special merit attributed to this.

And certain passages in the Confessions of St.Augustine and in the early life of St.Francis of Assisi bewildered me and left me puzzled.
But now, quite suddenly, it was as if revelation had come to me.

It was as if the Book of Life had at last been opened for me, and at a glance I had read one of its dazzling pages.