C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.
Rutherford
Be not cast down. If ye saw Him who is standing on the shore, holding out His arms to welcome you to land, ye would wade, not only through a sea of wrongs, but through hell itself to be with Him.
Christ and His cross are not separable in this life, howbeit Christ and His cross part at heaven’s door, for there is no house-room for crosses in heaven. One tear, one sigh, one sad heart, one fear, one loss, one thought of trouble cannot find lodging there.
Christ, in that place He hath put you, hath intrusted you with a dear pledge, which is His own glory, and hath armed you with His sword to keep the pledge, and make a good account of it to God.
Faint not; the miles to heaven are but few and short.
Grace will ever speak for itself and be fruitful in well-doing; the sanctified cross is a fruitful tree.
How soon would faith freeze without a cross!
I pray God that I may never find my will again. Oh, that Christ would subject my will to His, and trample it under His feet.
I wonder many times that ever a child of God should have a sad heart, considering what the Lord is preparing for him.
Let your children be as so many flowers, borrowed from God. If the flowers die or wither, thank God for a loan of them.
Make not Christ a liar in distrusting His promise.
Of all created comforts, God is the lender; you are the borrower, not the owner.
Set not your heart upon the world, since God hath not made it your portion.
There is nothing left to us but to see how we may be approved of Him, and how we may roll the weight of our weak souls in well-doing upon Him, who is God omnipotent.
There is nothing that will make you a Christian indeed, but a taste of the sweetness of Christ.
Welcome, welcome, cross of Christ, if Christ be with it.
When I look to my guiltiness, I see that my salvation is one of our Saviour’s greatest miracles, either in heaven or earth.
Why should I start at the plough of my Lord, that maketh deep furrows on my soul? I know he is no idle husbandman; he purposeth a crop.
Ye have lost a child—nay, she is not lost to you, who is found to Christ; she is not sent away, but only sent before; like unto a star, which going out of our sight, doth not die and vanish, but shineth in another hemisphere.