She, looking at us with an open and confident countenance, said, 'Why, I believe there is weeping here! Come, my children, what is all this?
Have you no faith?
And at what are you dismayed?
What if men do rage?
Eh?
Are you afraid of that?
They are but flies! You hope in God, and yet fear anything! Fear but Him, and, trust me, all will be well;' and to Madame de Chevreuse, who came to fetch her daughters, 'Madame, when there is no God I shall lose courage; but, so long as God is God, I shall hope in Him.'" She succumbed, however, beneath the burden; and the terror she had always felt of death aggravated her sufferings.

"Believe me, my children," she would say to the nuns, "believe what I tell you.

People do not know what death is, and do not think about it.

As for me, I have apprehended it all my life, and have always been thinking about it.

But all I have imagined is less than nothing in comparison with what it is, with what I feel, and with what I comprehend at this moment.