Heaven is a house full of miracles; yea, of spectacles and images of free grace.

Grace grows best in winter.

They lose nothing who gain Christ.

The secret formula of the saints: When I am in the cellar of affliction, I look for the Lord's choicest wines.

Our little time of suffering is not worthy of our first night's welcome home to Heaven.

Why should I tremble at the plough of my Lord, that maketh deep furrows on my soul? I know He is no idle husbandman, He purposeth a crop.

I urge you a nearer communion with Christ, and a growing communion. There are curtains to be opened in Christ that we have never seen before... Therefore dig deep, and sweat, and labor. Take pains for Him, and set aside as much time as you can in each day for Him.