To a true believer, death is but going to church: from the church below to the church above.
Grace finds us beggars but leaves us debtors.
A man’s free will cannot cure him even of the toothache, or a sore finger; and yet he madly thinks it is in its power to cure his soul.
Grace alone makes the elect gracious; grace alone keeps them gracious; and the same grace alone will render them everlastingly glorious in the heaven of heavens.
Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee.
When Christ entered into Jerusalem the people spread garments in the way: when He enters into our hearts, we pull off our own righteousness, and not only lay it under Christ’s feet but even trample upon it ourselves.
Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling.
Faith, repentance, and holiness are no less the free gifts of God than eternal life.
That opinion that personal holiness is unnecessary to final glorification is in direct opposition to every dictate of reason; to every declaration of Scripture.
The church of the elect, which is partly militant on earth, and partly triumphant in heaven, resembles a city built on both sides of a river. There is but the stream of death between grace and glory. Death, to God’s people, is but a ferry-boat.
Whom should we love, if not Him who loved us, and gave himself for us?
How vast the benefits divine which we in Christ possess! We are redeemed from guilt and shame and called to holiness. But not for works which we have done, or shall hereafter do, hath God decreed on sinful men salvation to bestow.
I enjoy heaven already in my soul. My prayers are all converted into praises.