No emotion, any more than a wave, can long retain its own individual form.

The worst prison is not of stone. It is of a throbbing heart, outraged by an infamous life.

Flowers are sent to do God's work in unrevealed paths, and to diffuse influence by channels that we hardly suspect.

I have known men who thought the object of conversion was to cleanse them as a garment is cleansed, and that when they are converted they were to be hung up in the Lord's wardrobe, the door of which was to be shut, so that no dust could get at them. A coat that is not used the moths eat; and a Christian who is hung up so that he shall not be tempted, the moths eat him; and they have poor food at that.

So we fall asleep in Jesus. We have played long enough at the games of life, and at last we feel the approach of death. We are tired out, and we lay our heads back on the bosom of Christ, and quietly fall asleep.

When flowers are full of heaven-descended dews, they always hang their heads; but men hold theirs the higher the more they receive, getting proud as they get full.

Work is not a curse, but drudgery is.