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My sins were the scourges which lacerated those blessed shoulders, and crowned with thorn those bleeding brows: my sins cried Crucify him! crucify him! and laid the cross upon his gracious shoulders. His being led forth to die is sorrow enough for one eternity: but my having been his murderer, is more, infinitely more, grief than one poor fountain of tears can express.
Charles H. Spurgeon — Morning and Evening
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Morning and Evening
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