It is a man dying with his harness on that angels love to escort upward.

I think half the troubles for which men go slouching in prayer to God are caused by their intolerable pride. Many of our cares are but a morbid way of looking at our privileges. We let our blessings get mouldy, and then call them curses.

Going out into life--that is dying. Christ is the door out of life.

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

Coming to the Bible through commentaries is much like looking at a landscape through garret windows, over which generations of unmolested spiders have spun their webs.

You are not called to be a canary in a cage. You are called to be an eagle, and to fly sun to sun, over continents.

God appoints our graces to be nurses to other men's weaknesses.