I’m a graduate of the university of poverty and have taken several
post-graduate courses there, too.
Some of you sing, “I’m standing on the solid rock,” through a set of false
teeth that you haven’t paid for yet.
Nine-tenths of the church members are bench warmers.
“Not my will but”—it costs some of you too much to complete the other
three words—“Thine be done.” That’s why your spiritual batting average is
only fifteen when it ought to be nine hundred.
I’d rather see a child in the mouth of a crocodile than to see it dragged
down by some immoral influence.
Go into the church and you’ll find most of the bunch nearer the theatre
and card party than to Jesus.
The nearer to Jesus the more elbow room there is; the farther away you
find the biggest crowd.