You will not be carried to Heaven lying at ease upon a feather bed.

Jesus Christ came into my prison cell last night, and every stone flashed like a ruby.

O, what I owe to the file, the hammer, and the furnace of the Lord Jesus! I know that he is no idle husbandman - he purposes a crop.

Let your children be as so many flowers, borrowed from God. If the flowers die or wither, thank God for a summer loan of them.

Christ and His cross are not separable in this life, howbeit Christ and His cross part at heaven's door, for there is no house-room for crosses in heaven. One tear, one sigh, one sad heart, one fear, one loss, one thought of trouble cannot find lodging there.

No pen, no words, no image can express to you the loveliness of my only, only Lord Jesus.

Millions of hells of sinners cannot come near to exhaust infinite grace.