Grace grows best in winter.

When we shall come home, and enter into the possession of our Brother's fair kingdom, and when our heads shall find the weight of the eternal crown of glory, then we shall look back to pains and sufferings and then we will see life and sorrow to be less than one step or stride from a prison to glory. Our little inch of time-suffering is not worthy of our first night's welcome-home to heaven.

Well's them who are under crosses, and Christ says to them, "Half Mine."

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.

I wonder many times that ever a child of God should have a sad heart, considering what their Lord is preparing for them.

After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. And after every storm, there comes clear, open skies.

The great Master Gardener, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, in a wonderful providence, with his own hand, planted me here, where by his grace, in this part of his vineyard, I grow; and here I will abide till the great Master of the vineyard think fit to transplant me.