More Tears Are Shed In Playhouses Than

Heaven Is The Day Of Which Grace Is The Dawn; The Rich, Ripe Fruit Of Which Grace Is The Lovely Flower; The Inner Shrine Of That Most Glorious Temple To Which Grace Forms The Approach And Outer Court.

The More The Diamond Is Cut The Brighter It Sparkles; And In What Seems Hard Dealing, There God Has No End In View But To Perfect His People.

The Hope Of Immortality Makes Heroes Of Cowards.

It Is Not With A Rush And A Spring That We Are To Reach Christ's Character, And Attain To Perfect Saintship; But Step By Step, Foot By Foot, Hand Over Hand, We Are Slowly And Often Painfully To Mount The Ladder That Rests On Earth, And Rises To Heaven.

The Finest Flowers Of Genius Have Grown In An Atmosphere Where Those Of Nature Are Prone To Droop, And Difficult To Bring To Maturity.