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I am struck here by the curious mixture of justice and injustice in our lives. We are blamed for our real faults but usually not on the right occasions.
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[Repentance] means unlearning all the self-conceit and self -will that we have been training ourselves into... It means killing part of yourself, under-going a kind of death.
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We do not enjoy a story fully at the first reading. Not till the curiosity, the sheer narrative lust, has been given its sop and laid asleep, are we at leisure to savour the real beauties.
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I willingly believe that the damned are, in one sense, successful, rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside.
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It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds: in reality our best work is done by keeping things out.
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I do not think that all who choose wrong roads perish; but their rescue consists in being put back on the right road.
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If we let ourselves, we shall always be waiting for some distraction or other to end before we can really get down to our work. The only people who achieve much are those who want knowledge so badly that they seek it while the conditions are still unfavorable. Favorable conditions never come.
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Man's conquest of Nature turns out, in the moment of its consummation, to be Nature's conquest of Man.
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Here. All of you. And you, doorkeeper. No one is to be let out of the house today. And anyone I catch talking about this young lady will be first beaten to death and then burned alive and after that be kept on bread and water for six weeks. There.
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We are...a Divine work of art, something that God is making...something with which He will not be satisfied until it has a certain character.
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The good man's past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven.
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I'm hunger. I'm thirst. Where I bite, I hold till I die, and even after death they must cut out my mouthful from my enemy's body and bury it with me. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.
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If God thinks this state of war in the universe a price worth paying for free will...then we may take it it is worth paying.
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God, in the end, gives people what they most want, including freedom from himself. What could be more fair?
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The real Oxford is a close corporation of jolly, untidy, lazy, good-for-nothing humorous old men, who have been electing their own successors ever since the world began and who intend to go on with it. They'll squeeze under the Revolution or leap over it when the time comes, don't you worry.
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The story does what no theorem can quite do. It may not be "like real life" in the superficial sense: but it sets before us an image of what reality may well be like at some more central region.
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Most people, if they had really learned to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world. There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never quite keep their promise.
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The happiness which God designs for his higher creatures is the happiness of being freely, voluntarily united to him.
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The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing, is to hand over your whole self--all your wishes and precautions--to Christ. But it is far easier than what we are all trying to do instead. For what we are trying to do is to remain what we call "ourselves," to keep personal happiness as our great aim in life, and yet at the same time be "good.
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When you invite a middle-aged moralist to address you, I suppose I must conclude that you have a taste for middle-aged moralizing.
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The false religion of lust is baser than the false religion of mother-love or patriotism or art: but lust is less likely to be made into a religion.
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All Hell is smaller than one pebble of your earthly world; but it is smaller than one atom of this world, the Real World.
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The more we get what we now call 'ourselves' out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become.
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The prayer preceding all prayers is 'May it be the real I who speaks. May it be the real Thou that I speak to.'