Love in your heart is better than gold in your hands.

If after your death a biographer or your children were to scan your canceled checks for insight into what kind of Christian you were, what conclusion would they come to? What would they reveal about your walk with Christ? Would those checks be tangible evidence of your spiritual trustworthiness?

Our lives begin to end the day we stop caring for whit is important.

To make the most of your life you must keep the vision of eternity continually in your mind and the value of it in your heart.

All over America, churchgoers chafe at a Sunday morning service that runs an hour and ten minutes, but have no problem with three-hour football games on television.

So I refuse to let religious phonies destroy my heart for the One who loves me and draws close to me when I am wounded. I refuse to be robbed of life's greatest treasure — a personal, permanent, passionate relationship with God through faith in Jesus.

Individuals want to know that none of their own money is being invested in companies that put their profits ahead of international security.

He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.

When I see a beautiful shell like that I can't help feeling a regret about what's inside it.

Her voice is full of money,... That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money- that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it, the cymbals' song of it....High in a white palace the king's daughter, the golden girl....

After marriage came elation, and then, gradually, the growth of weariness. Responsibility descended upon Merlin, the responsibility of making his thirty dollars a week and her twenty suffice to keep them respectably fat and to hide with decent garments the evidence that they were.

He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man can store up in his ghostly heart.