Nothing is worth doing at all, nothing is worth writing, which does not do something which will last.
Amy CarmichaelO Thou who art my quietness, my deep repose, My rest from strife of tongues, my holy hill, Fair is Thy pavilion, where I hold me still. Back let them fall from me, my clamorous foes, Confusions multiplied; From crowding things of sense I flee, and Thee I hide. Until this tyranny be overpast, Thy hand will hold me fast; What though the tumult of the storm increase, Grant to Thy servant strength, O Lord, and bless with peace.
Amy CarmichaelI believe truly that Satan cannot endure it and so slips out of the room - more or less - when there is a true song.
Amy CarmichaelIf you would live in victory . . . you must refuse to be dominated by the seen and the felt.
Amy Carmichael