After every storm, there comes clear open skies.

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

Be not cast down. If ye saw Him who is standing on the shore, holding out His arms to welcome you to land, ye would wade, not only through a sea of wrongs, but through hell itself to be with Him.

Consider, it is impossible that your idol sins and you can go to heaven together; and that those who will not part with these do not indeed love Christ at the bottom, but only in word and show, which will not do the business.

Humility is a strange flower; it grows best in winter weather, and under storms of affliction.

Grace will ever speak for itself and be fruitful in well-doing; the sanctified, cross is a fruitful tree.

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