We busy ourselves in trifles ... and think our time ill-spent in the contemplating and celebrating that wherein God has busied himself.
In regard of the inconstancy of our affections. We admire anything at the first notice and arrival, we adore it at the first sight, which by continuance grows more familiar. What our affections rouse themselves up to receive at the first approach, they afterwards, being glutted […]
It is here, in the thing that happened at the first Christmas, that the profoundest and most unfathomable depths of the Christian revelation lie. ... Nothing in fiction is so fantastic as is this truth of the Incarnation.
Heaven itself is not so valuable and precious as Christ is.