The sigh, the groan of a broken heart, will soon go through the ceiling up to heaven, aye, into the very bosom of God.

The tender heart, the broken and contrite spirit, are to me far above all the joys that I could ever hope for in this vale of tears.

You often feel that your prayers scarcely reach the ceiling; but, oh, get into this humble spirit by considering how good the Lord is, and how evil you all are, and then prayer will mount on wings of faith to heaven.

broken the glass ceiling.

The broken heart. You think you will die, but you keep living, day after day after terrible day.

It is not the broken heart that kills, but broken pride, monseigneur.