It is sweet to be nothing and less than nothing that Christ may be all in all.

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

I have ever found it, when I have thought the battle was over and the conquest gained, and so let down my watch, the enemy has risen up and done me the greatest injury.

I think my soul never was in such an agony before. I felt no restraint, for the treasures of divine grace were opened to me. I wrestled for absent friends, for the ingathering of souls, for multitudes of poor souls, and for many that I thought were the children of God, in many distant places. I was in such an agony, for half an hour before sunset, till near dark, that I was all over wet with sweat: but yet is seemed to me that I had wasted away the day, and had done nothing. Oh!, my dear Savior did sweat blood for poor souls!

I cared not where or how I lived, or what hardships I went through, so I could but gain souls to Christ

Oh that I may never loiter on my heavenly journey.

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.