Living animals are too eccentric in their movements, and the law of gravitation usually draws me from my seat upon them to a lower level; therefore, I am not an inveterate lover of horseback.

My grandfather once ventured upon publishing a volume of hymns. I never heard anyone speak in their favour or argue that they ought to have been sung in the congregation. In that volume, he promised a second if the first should prove acceptable. We forgive him the first collection because he did not inflict another.

As a child, when asked what I would be, I usually said I was going to be a huntsman. A fine profession, truly!

To despise no opportunity of usefulness is a leading rule with those who are wise to win souls.

May we do good everywhere as we have opportunity, and results will not be wanting!

If you believe in prayer at all, expect God to hear you. If you do not expect, you will not have. God will not hear you unless you believe He will hear you; but if you believe He will, He will be as good as your faith.

There are some people who need to wear a label round their necks to show that they are Christians at all, or else we might mistake them for sinners, their actions are so like those of the ungodly.

I fear that many a man's good resolutions only need the ordinary fire of daily life to make them melt away. So, too, with fine professions and the boastings of perfection which abound in this age of shams.

There are some Christian people who taste and see and enjoy religion in their own souls, and who get at a deeper knowledge of it than books can ever give them, though they should search all their days.

The three most powerful and most apparent means used by Rome to retain her power over the minds of her votaries are Ignorance, Superstition, and Persecution.

Lord sanctify us. Oh! That Thy spirit might come and saturate every faculty, subdue every passion, and use every power of our nature for obedience to God.

O, Thou precious Lord Jesus Christ, we do adore Thee with all our hearts. Thou art Lord of all.

Oh, come, Divine Physician, and bind up every broken bone. Come with Thy sacred nard which Thou hast compounded of Thine own heart's blood, and lay it home to the wounded conscience and let it feel its power. Oh! Give peace to those whose conscience is like the troubled sea which cannot rest.

Lord keep us all from sin. Teach us how to walk circumspectly; enable us to guard our minds against error of doctrine, our hearts against wrong feelings, and our lives against evil actions.

Have we been going up and down in business, and are those round about us as yet unaware of our Christian character? Have we never spoken to them the Word of Life? Lord, arouse us to a deep concern for all with whom we come in contact from day to day.

May we have communion with God in the secret of our hearts, and find Him to be to us as a little sanctuary.

After many years of great mercy, after tasting of the powers of the world to come, we still are so weak, so foolish; but, oh! when we get away from self to God, there all is truth and purity and holiness, and our heart finds peace, wisdom, completeness, delight, joy, victory.

Oh, this base heart of ours! Hath it not enough tinder in it to set on fire the course of nature? If a spark do but fall into it, any one of our members left to itself would dishonour Christ, deny the Lord that bought us, and turn back into perdition.

How sweet it is to learn the Savior's love when nobody else loves us! When friends flee, what a blessed thing it is to see that the Savior does not forsake us but still keeps us and holds us fast and clings to us and will not let us go!

We do not wish to enter Heaven until our work is done, for it would make us uneasy if there were one single soul left to be saved by our means.

Nothing reflects so much honor on a workman as a trial of his work and its endurance of it. So it is with God. It honors Him when His saints preserve their integrity.

Think of what you are, you Christians. You are God's children; you are joint heirs with Christ. The 'many mansions' are for you; the palms and harps of the glorified are for you. You have a share in all that Christ has and is and shall be.

We are in a wrong state of mind if we are not in a thankful state of mind.

All our actions, as well as our thoughts and words, should praise Him who always blesses us.

In spiritual things, it is God who performs all things for you. Rest in Him, then.

You will never exaggerate when you speak good things of God. It is not possible to do so. Try, dear brethren, and boast in the Lord.

Cast away your sloth, your lethargy, your coldness, or whatever interferes with your chaste and pure love for Christ, your soul's husband. Make Him the source, the center, and the circumference of all your soul's range of delight.

True prayer is neither a mere mental exercise nor a vocal performance. It is far deeper than that - it is spiritual transaction with the Creator of Heaven and Earth.

We do not pray to God to instruct Him as to what He should do; neither for a moment must we presume to dictate the method of the divine working.

In prayer, we stand where angels bow with veiled faces. There, even there, the cherubim and seraphim adore before that selfsame throne to which our prayers ascend. And shall we come there with stunted requests and narrow, contracted faith?

People have to really suffer before they can risk doing what they love.

Find joy in everything you choose to do. Every job, relationship, home... it's your responsibility to love it, or change it.

Find out what you're afraid of and go live there.

All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever be boring.

It's funny how you never think about the women you've had. It's always the ones who get away that you can't forget.

People used what they called a telephone because they hated being close together and they were scared of being alone.

What we don't understand we can make mean anything.

No matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close.

People don't want their lives fixed. Nobody wants their problems solved. Their dramas. Their distractions. Their stories resolved. Their messed cleaned up. Because what would they have left? Just the big scary unknown.

Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified?

You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or not to be.

Our Generation has had no Great war, no Great Depression. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.

You are not a beautiful, unique snowflake... This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

Where would Jesus be if no one had written the gospels?

If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person?

I used to work in a funeral home to feel good about myself, just the fact that I was breathing.

Sometimes you do something, and you get screwed. Sometimes it's the things you don't do, and you get screwed.

A minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection.

I wanted to write about the moment when your addictions no longer hide the truth from you. When your whole life breaks down. That's the moment when you have to somehow choose what your life is going to be about.

Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head.