It’s not tomorrow that you enter paradise, or the next day, but today, when you are poor and crucified.

Léon Bloy (1846-1917)
Writer, essayist

“Our visits to the Bloys became frequent. We loved them more and more every day, and nowhere did hospitality seem sweeter than in their miserable little house at 40 rue du Chevalier de La Barre, in Montmartre. We ate the cheapest meals, although wine was never in short supply. There were no tablecloths or napkins, and only a very small number of plates, but the invitation to share their meal was always made with such insistent gentleness that, despite our fear of exacerbating their poverty, we found it impossible to refuse their invitation. Léon Bloy’s jacket was carefully buttoned all the way to the top, and, more often than not in those days, no shirt collar protruded – eventually you realized that he hadn’t a shirt. What little food appeared on the table was served by Madame Bloy with majestic kindness. This woman, who had married Léon Bloy because he was poor, had all the greatness of character necessary for such a vocation.”

Jacques (1882-1973) and Raïssa (1883-1960) Maritain
Philosopher (Jacques) writer and poet (Raïssa)