It costs God nothing, so far as we know, to create nice things: but to convert rebellious wills cost Him crucifixion.

The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life.

The world is so much larger than I thought. I thought we went along paths--but it seems there are no paths. The going itself is the path.

If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them. They are not a sort of prize which God could, if He chose, just hand out to anyone.

The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by ‘the veil of familiarity.’ The child enjoys his cold meat, otherwise dull to him, by pretending it is buffalo, just killed with his own bow and arrow. And the child is wise. The real meat comes back to him more savory for having been dipped in a story…by putting bread, gold, horse, apple, or the very roads into a myth, we do not retreat from reality: we rediscover it.

God gives His gifts where He finds the vessel empty enough to receive them.

I prefer being honest to being 'honest to God.'