I board with a poor Scotchman: his wife can talk scarce any English.

I hoped that my weary pilgrimage in the world would be short; and that it would not be long before I should be brought to my heavenly home and Father's house.

All my desire was the conversion of the heathen... I declare, now I am dying, I would not have spent my life otherwise for the whole world.

In the morning was again distressed as soon as I waked, hearing much talk about the world and the things of it. I perceived the men were in some measure afraid of me; and I discoursed something about sanctifying the sabbath, if possible to solemnize their minds: but when they were at a little distance, they again talked freely about secular affairs. Oh, I thought what a hell it would be, to live with such men to eternity!

My desires seem especially to be after weanedness from the world, perfect deadness to it, and that I may be crucified to all its allurements. My soul desires to feel itself more of a pilgrim and a stranger here below, that nothing may divert me from pressing through the lonely desert, till I arrive at my Father's house.

Oh, that I could spend every moment of my life to God's glory!

Oh, how precious is time, and how it pains me to see it slide away, while I do so little to any good purpose.