Christ has no velvet crosses.

My dear brother, let God make of you what He will, He will end all with consolation, and shall make glory out of your suffering.

My faith has no bed to sleep upon but omnipotence.

My Lord Jesus has fully recompensed my sadness with his joys, my losses with his own presence. I find it a sweet and rich thing to exchange my sorrows with Christ's joys, my afflictions with that sweet peace I have with himself.

I know that, as night and shadows are good for flowers, and moonlight and dews are better than a continual sun, so is Christ's absence of special use, and that it hath some nourishing virtue in it, and giveth sap to humility, and putteth an edge on hunger, and funisheth a fairfield to faith to put forth itself, and to exercise its fingers in gripping it seeth not what.

I seldom made an errand to God for another but I got something for myself.

Verily, we know not what an evil it is to indulge ourselves, and to make an idol of our will.