A prayer from Saint Thérèse of Lisieux (1873-1897):
Yes, my Beloved, this is how my life will be consumed . . . I have no other indicates of displaying you my adore than by throwing flowers, that is, of not enabling a single tiny sacrifice to escape, not a single appear, not a single word, but by profiting from all the smallest points and undertaking them out of adore . . . I want to endure for adore and even to rejoice for adore so that in this way I will throw flowers prior to your throne. I shall not come upon a single devoid of unpetalling it for you . . . Then whilst I am throwing my flowers, I shall sing (for could a single cry when undertaking such a joyous factor?). I will sing, even when I have to collect my flowers in the midst of thorns, and my song will be all the much more melodious when the thorns are longest.