Affliction (n.) is the most terrifying disguise eternity ever invented, a figure aimed at hope's heart like a robber's knife, and all the while it was labouring to give the sufferer hope.
Affliction (n.) tears off youth's blossoms like a storm, which may look like going backward and be progress for a tree that is to bear fruit.
Affliction (n.) can drown out every earthly voice but not the voice of eternity within, which uses affliction's loud voice to silence the rest and make itself heard.
Affliction (n.) helps only by repelling: it does not hand hope over as a present but drives a man, mercilessly to the child's eye, to grasp the eternal he already has within.
Affliction (n.) is eloquent like a stick: there are blows in it, striking is its permanent attribute, while comfortable assurances accomplish nothing with men so hardy.
Affliction (n.) plays the villain and is never appreciated: no one admires how well it plays its part, unmoved by sighs and tears, any more than the physician minds the patient's kicks.
The Affliction (n.) are not invited to joy or to work, for they spoil the one and slow the other, and they know it and go off alone; the Gospel's invitation is to them alone.
Affliction (n.) is light and brief only for someone with a large enough measuring-stick; Paul, beaten, imprisoned and executed, took out eternity, measured, and found it so.
Affliction (n.) that is itself the way cannot mean you are lost; it is the sign you are on the right road.
Affliction (n.) and the way are one thought, so tightly joined that doubt cannot draw breath between them, as it can between a road and the adjective "hard."