I do not know if there is a more dreadful word in the English language than that word "lost."

See yonder another King's garden, which the King waters with his bloody sweat-Gethsemane, whose bitter herbs are sweeter far to renewed souls than even Eden's luscious fruits. There the mischief of the serpent in the first garden was undone: there the curse was lifted from earth, and borne by the woman's promised seed.

Preach not calmly and quietly as though you were asleep, but preach with fire and pathos and passion.

The joys of heaven will surely compensate for the sorrows of earth.

Be dogmatically true, obstinately holy, immovably honest, desperately kind, fixedly upright.

I do not come into this pulpit hoping that perhaps somebody will of his own free will return to Christ. My hope lies in another quarter. I hope that my Master will lay hold of some of them and say, "You are mine, and you shall be mine. I claim you for myself." My hope arises from the freeness of grace, and not from the freedom of the will.

Never lose heart in the power of the gospel. Do not believe that there exists any man, much less any race of men, for whom the gospel is not fitted.