When a man beginneth to grow lukewarm, then he feareth a little labour, and willingly accepteth outward consolation; but when he beginneth perfectly to conquer himself and to walk manfully in the way of God, then he counteth as nothing those things which aforetime seemed to be so grievous unto him.

Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of its trouble, attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse for impossibility, for it thinks all things are lawful for itself and all things are possible.

There's no excuse to give up the hand you're dealt. You've just got to keep fighting and make something positive out of it.

Still, one got over things. Still, life had a way of adding day to day.

A good day—a bad day—so it goes on. Few people can be so tortured by writing as I am. Only Flaubert I think. Yet I see it now, as a whole. I think I can bring it off, if I only have courage and patience: take each scene quietly: compose: I think it may be a good book. And then—oh when it's finished!

How many men in a thousand million, he asked himself, reach Z after all?

That day has come. God is now dealing with us in a new way. Our badness is no longer the obstacle to blessing. Nor is our goodness the condition for blessing.

Ah, that 'if.' But it's of no use to despond. I can but do that, when I have tried everything and failed, and even then it won't serve me much.

Despite our fears and worries, and they are very real to all of us, life continues — it goes on. In these three words I can sum up everything I have learned in my 80 years about life — it goes on.

David replied to the Philistine, "You come to me with sword, spear, and javelin, but I come to you in the name of the LORD of Heaven's Armies.

In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins, not through strength but by perseverance.

Life doesn't require that we be the best, only that we try our best.