No created powers can mar our Lord Jesus' music, nor spill our song of joy. Let us then be glad and rejoice in the salvation of our Lord

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

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

Why should I tremble at the plough of my Lord, that maketh deep furrows on my soul? I know He is no idle husbandman, He purposeth a crop.

Christ's enemies are but breaking their own heads in pieces, upon the Rock laid in Zion; and the stone is not removed out of its place. Faith hath cause to take courage from our very afflictions; the devil is but a whetstone to sharpen the faith and patience of the saints. I know that he but heweth and polisheth stones, all this time, for the new Jerusalem.

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

Make not Christ a liar in distrusting His promise.