THE lark goes up singing towards heaven; but if she stops the motion of her wings, then straightway she falls, So it is with the Christian who prays not. Prayer is the movement of the wings of the soul; it bears one heavenward, but without prayer we sink.
Hope sings not like the linnet from the bough, but like the lark soaring as she sings, and giving forth the richest song when nearest heaven.
Man is born with his hands clutched; he dies with his hands wide open. Entering life, he desires to grasp everything; leaving the world, all that he possessed has slipped away.
It is a great mercy to enjoy the gospel of peace, but a greater to enjoy the peace of the gospel.
Put thou thy trust in God,
In duty’s path go on;
Fix on His Word thy steadfastness,
So shall thy work be done.
—Luther.