In the Salem of our peaceful hearts, the name of Jesus is great beyond compare: He has won our love, and He shall wear it.

Nothing teaches us about the preciousness of the Creator as much as when we learn the emptiness of everything else.

Jesus does not suffer so as to exclude your suffering. He bears a cross, not that you may escape it, but that you may endure it.

Even your little sorrows you may roll upon God, for He counteth the hairs of your head.

Jesus is in the tempest. His love wraps the night about itself as a mantle, but to the eye of faith the sable robe is scarce a disguise.

Winter in the soul is by no means a comfortable season: but there is this comfort, namely, that the Lord makes it.

Faith is the angelic messenger between the soul and the Lord Jesus in glory.

If it pleases Him to bid our patience exercise itself, shall He not do as He wills with His own!

Worldlings pray to the Lord in times of need, when it serves their turn. They cry to Him in trouble, but forsake Him in prosperity.

Meditation puts the telescope to the eye, and enables us to see Jesus after a better sort than we could have seen Him if we had lived in the days of His flesh.

The suppliant, whose fears prevent his words, will be well understood by the Most High.

A fool shouts charge when he should retreat, A coward shouts retreat when he should charge and a wise man knows the difference. I charge.

Words are the writer's sorcery, our dark arts and our sleight of hand. They're our enchantment and our temptation

There is still that singular perfection, and it's perfect in part because it seemed, at the time, so clearly to promise more.

The mass market eventually assimilates that which is innovative or revolutionary.

I always say that campaigning and governing are two different things.

To be truly alive is to feel one's ultimate existence within one's daily existence.

It is painful to reflect upon your failures knowing that you alone caused them.

The greatest enemy of justice is privilege.

And all we are waiting for is something worth waiting for.

February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer.