Oh, let the river of life rise higher and higher in my soul!
Thy people are no longer heavy-laden with sins, but are now heavy-laden with benefits.
We far more often meet a man laboring under a sense of sin more than one laboring under a sense of God’s mercies. We pick out all the little crosses and troubles of life and mourn over them, and forget our mercies. But the whole of our life is mercy, mercy, mercy.
We should always be wearing the garment of praise, not just waving a palm branch now and then.
Thanksgiving is the very air of heaven.
There are some saints who grieve so much over their imperfect holiness that they never rejoice.
I see that it is just as solemn a thing to be crowned with mercies as to be crushed with affliction.
Pharaoh forgot all of God’s judgments; do we also not forget many of God’s mercies?
Many a sorrow is calmed by a song of praise.
— Andrew Bonar