#maritain

But all our personal talents, all the human help of tradition, and the assistance of all the commentators and expositors will be of no avail, if that which is the object and the end of the mind, the goal of its natural inclination, is not also the object and the goal of our voluntary inclination, of the desire which moves us wholly towards our good, will profit us nothing, if we do not love the truth with our whole heart, if we do not exert ourselves to love the truth as he himself loved it, that great Doctor whose tranquil eyes were wet with tears, so weary was his heart with waiting for the vision.

[Modern poetry and art] endeavors to get free from the intelligible or logical sense itself.... Is it true that the logical sense has disappeared? No, that's impossible. But the logical sense has been digested, so to speak, by the poetic sense, it has been broken up, dislocated, to subsist only as a kind of variegated matter of the poetic sense. The poetic sense alone gleams in the dark. The poetic sense, which is but one with poetry itself, is the inner, ontological entelechy of the poem, and gives it its very being and substantial significance.

And, in truth, love lives only by God and by what it deifies, and when it perceives that what it has deified is but a mere fragment of nothing it turns to contempt and hatred. For this reason the love of humanity without God could not end otherwise than in a state in which the last resource of everyone is merely self-worship or suicide.

La Politica come carità in don Luigi Sturzo