I was thinking of when my sweet Jesus was presented to Herod, and I said to myself: “How is it possible that Jesus, who is so good, did not deign to say a word to him, or to give him a glance? Who knows whether that perfidious heart would have converted at the power of His gaze?” And Jesus, making Himself seen, told me: “My daughter, his perversity and the lack of interior disposition were such that he did not deserve that I look at him or say a word to him. And if I had done it, he would have rendered himself more guilty, because each word or gaze of Mine are additional bonds that are formed between Me and the creature. Each word is a greater union, one more closeness; and as the soul feels looked upon, grace begins its crafting. If the gaze or the word was sweet and benign, she says: ‘How beautiful, penetrating, gentle, melodious it was! How not to love Him?’ If then it was a majestic gaze or word, blazing with light, she says: ‘What majesty, what greatness, what penetrating light! How small I feel; how miserable I am; how much darkness in me before that light so blazing!’ If I wanted to tell you of the power, the grace, the good which My word or gaze brings, how many books would I make you write!”