Once in those very early days my brother brought into the nursery the lid of a biscuit tin which he had covered with moss and garnished with twigs and flowers so as to make it a toy garden or a toy forest. That was the first beauty I ever knew. What the real garden had failed to do, the toy garden did. It made me aware of nature-not, indeed, as a storehouse of forms and colors but as something cool, dewy, fresh, exuberant....As long as I live my imagination of Paradise will retain something of my brother's toy garden.

At least he went on saying this till Aslan had loaded him up with three dwarfs, one dryad, two rabbits, and a hedgehog, that steadied him a bit.

There must, whether the gods see it or not, be something great in the mortal soul. For suffering, it seems, is infinite, and our capacity without limit.

I do not expect old heads on young shoulders.

The central Christian belief is that Christ's death has somehow put us right with God and given us a fresh start.

Regarding the debate about faith and works: It's like asking which blade in a pair of scissors is most important.

Really, a young Atheist cannot guard his faith too carefully. Dangers lie in wait for him on every side.