Thou call’st us Brethren: sweet repose
Is in that word – the Lord who dwells on high 
Knows all, yet loves us better than He knows.

All the sin of men I esteem as their disease, not their nature;  as a folly which may be prevented, not a necessity which must be accepted. 

Sin is not a real thing.   It is rather the absence of a something, the will to do right.

I couldn’t live in peace if I put the shadow of a wilful sin between myself and God. 

The saint is the only explanation of the sinner that is accepted by God;  and He not only accepts, but demands it;  not only demands, but impels it.    For the final guarantee of man’s divinity is the humanity of God.

So it is that when we ought to think of sin we think of pain.   We fix our attention upon a transitory, it may be a salutary, symptom and forget the disease.

it’s the consistent men who keep the devil busy, because no one’s ever really consistent except in his cussedness.   It’s been my experience that consistency is simply a steel hoop around a small mind it keeps it from expanding.

We have all condemned in the past what we now accept. This recollection should make us hesitate before we voice our protests.

If we are weak, sinful, corrupt, it is better to know and feel the true state of the case than to live in a fool’s paradise.