If I am content to heal a hurt slightly, saying "Peace, peace," where is no peace; if I forget the poignant word "Let love be without dissimulation" and blunt the edge of truth, speaking not right things but smooth things, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If you would live in victory . . . you must refuse to be dominated by the seen and the felt.

Prayer is the core of the day. Take prayer out, and the day would collapse.

God, harden me against myself!

Love accepts the trying things of life without asking for explanations. It trusts and is at rest.

Missionary life is simply a chance to die.

We profess to be strangers and pilgrims, seeking after a country of our own, yet we settle down in the most un-stranger-like fashion, exactly as if we were quite at home and meant to stay as long as we could. I don't wonder apostolic miracles have died. Apostolic living certainly has.