The fulness of the godhead dwelt in every blade of grass.

Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers, 'Grow, grow.'

We have met on a solemn occasion, and in this crowded assembly there is one thing that appears important, that is, for every one of us to be still, that if any thing should he said, every one may the better hear.

The tallest blade of grass is the first to be cut by the scythe.

Everything dies, from the smallest blade of grass to the biggest galaxy.

Therefore, don't let sinners take courage to think they will be favoured like the thief on the cross; for we see on the other side, they may be like the hardened one, and reproach death itself.