Josemaría Escrivá Obras

The battle front. A group of some twenty officers, singing together in gay and noble comradeship. The songs come quickly, one after another.

That young lieutenant with the brown moustache only heard the first:

'I have no use

for divided hearts:

I give mine whole,

and not in parts.'

'What reluctance to give my whole heart!' And his prayer rose up in a broad and peaceful flow.

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