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

His will cannot be neutral or 'free' to act contrary to his nature.

No life can surpass that of a man who quietly continues to serve God in the place where providence has placed him.

Man's words are mere breath, but the word of the Lord is spirit and life.

We cannot play at preaching. We preach for eternity.

I believe that every particle of dust that dances in the sunbeam does not move an atom more or less that God wishes - that every particle of spray that dashes against the steamboat has its orbit, as well as the sun in the heavens - that the chaff from the hand of the winnower is steered as the stars in their course. The creeping of an aphid over the rosebush is as much fixed as the march of the devastating pestilence - the fall of...leaves from a poplar is as fully ordained as the tumbling of an avalanche.

When we ask of the Lord coolly, and not fervently, we do as it were, stop His hand, and restrain Him from giving us the very blessing we "pretend" that we are seeking.