There is a necessary limit to our achievement, but none to our attempt.
Joy in one's work is the consummate tool.
Wherever souls are being tried and ripened, in whatever commonplace and homely way, there God is hewing out the pillars for His temple.
For the Christ-child who comes is the Master of all; No palace too great, no cottage too small.
The trouble is that I'm in a hurry, but God isn't.
Heaven does not make holiness, but holiness makes heaven.