In heaven after ages of ages of growing glory, we shall have to say, as each new wave of the shoreless, sunlit sea bears us onward, It doth not yet appear what we shall be.

We believe that the history of the world is but the history of His influence and that the center of the whole universe is the cross of Calvary.

Death is but a passage. It is not a house, it is only a vestibule. The grave has a door on its inner side.

The prayer that begins with trustfulness, and passes on into waiting, will always end in thankfulness, triumph, and praise.

Faith is the sight of the inward eye.

God is His own motive. His love is not drawn out by our loveableness, but wells up, like an artesian spring, from the depths of His nature.

Man's course begins in a garden, but it ends in a city.