“The heart must be beaten or bruised, and then the sweet scent will come out.”

Great grace and small gifts are better than great gifts and no grace.

The truths that I know best I have learned on my knees. I never know a thing well, till it is burned into my heart by prayer.

I will stay in prison till the moss grows on my eye lids rather than disobey God.

I love to hear my Lord spoken of, and wherever I have seen the print of His shoe in the earth, there have I coveted to put mine also.

Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none.

Pray and read, read and pray; for a little from God is better than a great deal from men.

If you release me today, I’ll preach tomorrow.

I have given Him my faith, and sworn my allegiance to Him; how, then, can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor?

To-despise the world is the way to enjoy heaven; and blessed are they who delight to converse with God by prayer.

It is profitable for Christians to be often calling to mind the very beginnings of grace with their souls.

In all your prayers forget not to thank the Lord for his mercies.

Though it be said that faith cometh by hearing, yet it is the Spirit that worketh faith in the heart through hearing, or else they are not profited by hearing.

The best prayer I ever prayed had enough sin to damn the whole world.

You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.

I come from the Town of Stupidity; it lieth about four degrees beyond the City of Destruction.

Though there is not always grace where there is the fear of hell, yet, to be sure, there is no grace where there is no fear of God.

Black don’t crack: It does bruise, though. It does rupture into a new sky.

I’m satisfied and proud of the things I did – even the bumps and the bruises that I’ve had on the way. You fall down, you get up, you brush yourself off and you keep going. And that’s what we’re doing.

With all these past fears still written on my skin, it bruises me to let you in. Trauma’s that this body holds, still guard these tactile lips untold.

You proceed from a false assumption: I have no ego to bruise.

And perhaps the greatest paradox of all is how we stand here, fully wounded yet never more alive.

She refused to let what hurts bruise her memories.

We deserve sunshine and hope; and stitches for bruised hearts.

I’d rather suffer in silence than be subjected to deafening stares. I feel like I’m in an abusive relationship with my body, no one can see the bruises.