I wonder many times that ever a child of God should have a sad heart, considering what their Lord is preparing for them.
Praise God for the hammer, the file, and the furnace. The hammer molds us, the file sharpens us, and the fire tempers us.
My faith has no bed to sleep upon but omnipotence.
Faint not; the miles to heaven are but few and short.
The hope of heaven under troubles is like wind and sails to the soul.
The cross of Christ is the sweetest burden that I ever bore; it is such a burden as wings are to a bird, or sails to a ship, to carry me forward to my harbor.