You never hear Jesus say in Pilate's judgement hall one word that would let you imagine that He was sorry that He had undertaken so costly a sacrifice for us. When His hands are pierced, when He is parched with fever, His tongue dried up like a shard of pottery, when His whole body is dissolved into the dust of death, you never hear a groan or a shriek that looks like Jesus is going back on His commitment.

I have heard of some good old woman in a cottage, who had nothing but a piece of bread and a little water, and lifting up her hands, she said, as a blessing, What! all this, and Christ too?

Whatever call a man may pretend to have, if he has not been called to holiness, he certainly has not been called to the ministry.

It is the very joy of this earthly life to think that it will come to an end.

The law is for the self-righteous, to humble their pride: the gospel is for the lost, to remove their despair

Men are in a restless pursuit after satisfaction and earthly things. They have no forethought for their eternal state, the present hour absorbs them. They turn to another and another of earth's broken cisterns, hoping to find water, where not a drop was ever discovered yet.

This is the holy reasoning of love; it draws no license from grace, but rather feels the strong constraints of gratitude leading it to holiness.