Love Is The River Of

While A Man Is Stringing A Harp, He Tries The Strings, Not For Music, But For Construction. When It Is Finished It Shall Be Played For Melodies. God Is Fashioning The Human Heart For Future Joy. He Only Sounds A String Here And There To See How Far His Work Has Progressed.

When Our Cup Runs Over, We Let Others Drink The Drops That Fall, But Not A Drop From Within The Rim, And Call It Charity; When The Crumbs Are Swept From Our Table, We Think It Generous To Let The Dogs Eat Them; As If That Were Charity Which Permits Others To Have What We Cannot Keep.

Miracles Are Like Candles Lit Up Until The Sun Rises, And Then Blown Out. Therefore, I Am Amused When I Hear Sects And Churches Talk About Having Evidence Of Divine Authority Because They Have Miracles. Miracles In Our Time Are Like Candles In The Street At Midday. We Do Not Want Miracles. They Are To Teach Men How To Find Out Truths Themselves; And After They Have Learned This, They No More Need Them Than A Well Man Needs A Staff, Or A Grown-up Child Needs A Walking-stool.

Christ Certainly Did Come To Destroy The Law And The Prophets.

Interest Works Night And Day In Fair Weather And In Foul. It Gnaws At A Man's Substance With Invisible Teeth.