Nothing is more contrary to a heavenly hope than an earthly heart.

Truly, hope is the saint's covering, wherein he wraps himself, when he lays his body down to sleep in the grave: "My flesh," saith David, "shall rest in hope."

Christ bears with the saints' imperfections; well may the saints one with another.

Let thy hope of heaven master thy fear of death. Why shouldst thou be afraid to die, who hopest to live by dying!

Godliness, as well as the doctrine of our faith, is a mystery.

The regenerating Spirit is compared to the wind. His first attempts on the soul may be so secret that the creature knows not whence they come, or whither they tend; but, before he hath done, the sound will be heard throughout the soul.

God hath made it a debt which one saint owes to another to carry their names to a throne of grace.