Strength (n.) apart from God is strength without strength, as loving without loving God is loving without love, for God is love.
Strength (n.) like iron is most wonderful not when it deals harshly with the hardest thing, but when it deals gently with the weakest.
Strength (n.) can be a sickness: he was not too weak to bear actuality but too strong, and the evil lay in that.
Strength (n.) is never lacking in a man, only wasted: barely a third applied in the right place, and more than two-thirds against himself.
Strength (n.) belongs not to the love that says “If you will not love me, I will hate you” but to the one that says “Even if you hate me I shall continue to love you.”
Strength (n.) that squeezes sweat from an iron gauntlet may lack the strength to hold a sparrow rightly; God's omnipotence is as great in the almighty moderation that lets a blade of grass grow in its season.