She did not shut it properly because she knew that it is very silly to shut oneself into a wardrobe, even if it is not a magic one.

I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare.

But suppose you struggle through to the good and find that it also is dreadful? How if food itself turns out to be the very thing you can't eat, and home the very place you can't live, and your very comforter the person who makes you uncomfortable? Then, indeed, there is no rescue possible: the last card has been played.

I never fully understood it till my friend Professor Tolkien asked me the very simple question, 'What class of men would you expect to be most preoccupied with, and hostile to, the idea of escape?' and gave the obvious answer: jailers.

The whole difficulty of understanding Hell is that the thing to be understood is so nearly nothing.

The first demand any work of art makes upon us is to surrender. Look. Listen. Receive. Get yourself out of the way.

It has actually become very necessary in our time to rebut the theory that every firm and serious friendship is really homosexual.