Christ's work needs no repetition. It is final because it is perfect.

The church which is not a missionary church will be a missing church when Jesus comes.

The man who prays grows, and the muscles of the soul swell from this whipcord to iron bands.

What a comfort it is to feel that amid the chaos and anarchy which sweep the surface, God is holding fast the foundations on which we build.

We never get so near God as when we plead for others.

I used to think that God's gifts were on shelves one above the other and that the taller we grew in Christian character, the more easily we should reach them. I find now that God's gifts are on shelves one beneath the other and that is not a question of growing taller, but of stooping lower and that we have to go down, always down to get His best ones.

God is down in front. He is in the tomorrows. It is tomorrow that fills men with dread. God is there already. All the tomorrows of our life have to pass Him before they can get to us.