I b'lieve in religion, and one of these days, when I've got matters tight and snug, I calculates to tend to my soul.

...the heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.

God has always been to me not so much like a father as like a dear and tender mother.

How, then, shall a Christian bear fruit? By efforts and struggles to obtain that which is freely given; by meditations on watchfulness, on prayer, on action, on temptation, and on dangers? No, there must be a full concentration of the thoughts and affections on Christ; a complete surrender of the whole being to him; a constant looking to him for grace.

The greater the interest involved in a truth the more careful, self-distrustful, and patient should be the inquiry.

What a fool is he who locks his door to keep out spirits, who has in his own bosom a spirit he dares not meet alone; whose voice, smothered far down, and piled over with mountains of earthliness, is yet like the forewarning trumpet of doom!

there is no independence and pertinacity of opinion like that of these seemingly soft, quiet creatures, whom it is so easy to silence, and so difficult to convince.