An unknown Italian, A Year with the Saints — May (1891)
“ I tried as well as I could, to arm myself with an anger that should not be sinful, and therefore I took my heart in both my hands, but I had not strength to fling it in his face. And then, to tell the truth, I feared to lose that little stock of mildness, which I have labored for twenty-two years to collect, like dew, in the vase of my heart. The bees have been many years in gathering the honey, which a man swallows at a draught. Besides, what is the use of speaking to one who does not listen? That foolish youth was not capable of correction, for he was not master of his own judgment. ”
