God's Wounds Cure, Sin's Kisses Kill.

All The Plots Of Hell And Commotions On Earth Have Not So Much As Shaken God's Hand To Spoil One Letter Or Line He Has Been Drawing.

Never Venture Near The Door Where Sin Dwells, Lest You Are Dragged In.

It Is No Policy To Let Thy Lusts Have Arms, Which Are Sure To Rise And Declare Against Thee When Thine Enemy Comes.

Truly, Hope Is The Saint's Covering, Wherein He Wraps Himself, When He Lays His Body Down To Sleep In The Grave: "my Flesh," Saith David, "shall Rest In Hope."

Whoever Hath A Seed Time Of Grace Pass Over His Soul, Shall Have His Harvest Time Also Of Joy.