—What would I be singing, Vicky wondered,—if I sang out my moods?
— Было бы также неплохо, если бы у Мэг исправился почерк, — добавила миссис Мурри. — Я его кое-как разбираю и то с большим трудом, но вряд ли это удается ее учителям — они просто не хотят тратить на э...
Ἀέλπτον ούδέν, πἀντα δ’ ἐλπἱζειν χρεὠν. Euripides. Nothing is hopeless; we must hope for everything.
To look at a work of art and then to make a judgement as to whether or not it is art, and whether or not it is Christian, is presumptuous.
Kilt
You must understand with your hearts. With the whole of yourselves, not just a fragment.
When I get this feeling, this compulsion, I always do what it tells me. I can't explain where it comes from or how I get it, and it doesn't happen very often. But I obey it. And this afternoon I had a...
We have to make decisions, and we can’t make them if they’re based on fear.
Vitam impendre vero. (To stake one's life for the truth.)
To try to talk about art and about Christianity is for me one and the same thing, and it means attempting to share the meaning of my life, what gives it, for me, its tragedy and its glory.
To grow upis to findthe small part you are playingin the extraordinary drama written bysomebody else.
This seemed an obvious sign from heaven. I should stop trying to write...So the rejection on the fortieth birthday seemed an unmistakable command: Stop this foolishness and learn to make cherry pie. I...
They are very young. And on their earth, as they call it, they never communicate with other planets. They revolve about all alone in space.Oh, the thin beast said. Aren't they lonely?
There’s something wrong about trying to heal with a surgeon’s knife.
There was no light. The darkness was deep and there was no dazzle.
Thee onnlly wway ttoo ccope withh ssometthingg ddeadly sseriouss iss ttoo ttry ttoo trreatt itt a llittlle lligghtly.
The written word Should be clean as bone, Clear as light, Firm as stone. Two words are not As good as one. I
The reaper lacks the eyes to hold him back;
The artist cannot hold back; it is impossible, because writing, or any other discipline of art, involves participation in suffering, in the ills and the occasional stabbing joys that come from being p...
That's quite something, to be loved by someone like Mrs Whatsit.