Let me be on my guard when the world puts on a loving face, for it will, if possible, betray me as it did my Master, with a kiss.

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.

Love is an optical illusion that makes you believe the object of your affection is the most beautiful person in the world.

Never will I understand the mentallity of a man, who can plant his own seed and not watch it grow.

Capitalism has destroyed our belief in any effective power but that of self interest backed by force.

I knew I was an unwanted baby when I saw that my bath toys were a toaster and a radio.

He unscrewed the lid, set it on the dash, snorted from the bottle twice, banged the steering wheel, and said, 'You got to be ready to die every day - then you got a chance.'

When you inherit the level of economic catastrophe that President Obama inherited, it was a real touch-and-go situation.

The hope in radio is to build an audience over a number of years, a slow build to see if something works.

I am trying to be unfamiliar with what I'm doing.

The woman poet must be either a sexless, reclusive eccentric, with nothing to say specifically to women, or a brilliant, tragic, tortured suicide.

Quite frequently, he who goes too fast gets there too late - or not at all.