The more objects you set your heart upon, the more thorns there are to tear your peace of mind to shreds.

We often forget that the author of our faith must be the finisher of it also.

In agony unknown He bleeds away His life; in terrible throes He exhausts His soul. "Eloi! Eloi! lama sabachthani?" And then see! they pierce His side, and forthwith runneth out blood and water! This is the shedding of blood, the terrible pouring out of blood, without which, for you and the whole human race, there is no remission.

The moment we glorify ourselves, since there is room for one glory only in the universe, we set ourselves up as rivals to the Most High.

The demon of pride was born with us; and it will not die one hour before us.

Let me ask you, how many atheists are now in this house? Perhaps not a single one of you would accept the title, and yet, if you live from Monday morning to Saturday night in the same way as you would live if there were no God, you are practical atheists.

Let no knowledge satisfy but that which lifts above the world, which weans from the world, which makes the world a footstool.