I Cared Not Where Or How I

I Think My Soul Never Was In Such An Agony Before. I Felt No Restraint, For The Treasures Of Divine Grace Were Opened To Me. I Wrestled For Absent Friends, For The Ingathering Of Souls, For Multitudes Of Poor Souls, And For Many That I Thought Were The Children Of God, In Many Distant Places. I Was In Such An Agony, For Half An Hour Before Sunset, Till Near Dark, That I Was All Over Wet With Sweat: But Yet Is Seemed To Me That I Had Wasted Away The Day, And Had Done Nothing. Oh!, My Dear Savior Did Sweat Blood For Poor Souls!

Lord, Let Me Make A Difference For You That Is Utterly Disproportionate To Who I Am.

Whatever Else You Fail Of, Do Not Fail Of The Influence Of The Holy Spirit; That Is The Only Way You Can Handle The Consciences Of Men.

My Soul Often Mourned Of More Time And Opportunity To Be Alone With God

My Desires Seem Especially To Be After Weanedness From The World, Perfect Deadness To It, And That I May Be Crucified To All Its Allurements. My Soul Desires To Feel Itself More Of A Pilgrim And A Stranger Here Below, That Nothing May Divert Me From Pressing Through The Lonely Desert, Till I Arrive At My Father's House.