Many a text [of Scripture] is written in a secret ink which must be held to the fire of adversity to make it visible.

If you are to go to Christ, do not put on your good doings and feelings, or you will get nothing. Go in your sins, they are your livery. Your ruin is your argument for mercy! Your poverty is your plea for heavenly alms! And your need is the motive for heavenly goodness.

I thought I could have leaped from earth to heaven at one spring when I first saw my sins drowned in the Redeemer's blood.

Jesus! it is the name which moves the harps of heaven to melody. Jesus! the life of all our joys. If there be one name more charming, more precious than another, it is this name. It is woven into the very warp and woof of our psalmody. Many of our hymns begin with it, and scarcely any, that are good for anything, end without it. It is the sum total of all delights. It is the music with which the bells of heaven ring; a song in a word; an ocean for comprehension, although a drop for brevity; a matchless oratorio in two syllables; a gathering up of the hallelujahs of eternity in five letters.

I do not think I should care to go on worshipping a Madonna even if she did wink. One cannot make much out of a wink. We want something more than that from the object of our adoration.

Nothing is so sweet as to lie passive in God's hands, and know no will but His.

Sin is no little thing. It girded the Redeemer’s head with thorns, and pierced his heart . . . Look upon all sin as that which crucified the Saviour, and you will see it to be ‘exceeding sinful’.