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.

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!

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.

We should all know more, live nearer to God, and grow in grace, if we were more alone. Meditation chews the cud and extracts the real nutriment from the mental food gathered elsewhere.

You know one thing that Mr. Powell taught me? He taught me that sometimes, art can make you forget everything else all around you. That's what are can do.

I never thought in a million years I'd be that healthy girl who wakes up every morning to exercise. After being called 'cherubic and chubby, ' I'm rocking a bikini!

I am never lonely when I am reading the Bible. Nothing dissolves loneliness like a session with God's Word.

If you have the will to win, you have achieved half your success; if you don't, you have achieved half your failure.

I'm an enigma, an unknown. You can't really figure out what I'm going to do next. I like it like that.

It was her way of saying, "You should kill yourself.

Oh, drop the act, Tinkerbell, and get rid of my problem. Then we’ll talk.

I think that things are poetic when they don't have a boundary. Without rules. My life is poetic.

A picture lives by companionship, expanding and quickening in the eyes of the sensitive observer

I watch life trickle from the bullet wound of a sixteen-year-old "example" and marvel how things weak, even words, will turn vicious and merciless to gain power,despite reason or history