The mystery of history is an insoluble problem.

We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning.

If God but cares for our inward and eternal life, if by all the experiences of this life He is reducing it and preparing for its disclosure, nothing can befall us but prosperity. Every sorrow shall be but the setting of some luminous jewel of joy. Our very morning shall be but the enamel around the diamond; our very hardships but the metallic rim that holds the opal, glancing with strange interior fires.

He that does not know how wisely to meddle with public affairs in preaching the gospel, does not know how to preach the gospel.

Men have a thousand desires to a bushel of choices.

There is no faculty of the human soul so persistent and universal as that of hatred.

Every fresh act of benevolence is the herald of deeper satisfaction; every charitable act a stepping-stone towards heaven.