You know what this is, I suppose. Religious melancholia. Stop while there is time. If you dive, you dive into insanity.

Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.

It may well be that by trickery of priests men have sometimes taken a mortal's voice for a god's. But it will not work the other way. No one who hears a god's voice takes it for a man's.

We cannot fully understand the relations of time and choice until we are beyond both.

Would it not be better to be dead than to have this horrible fear that Aslan has come and is not like the Aslan we have believed in and longed for? It is as if the sun rose one day and were a black sun.

And there we all were, as invisible as you could wish to see.

Fallen man is not simply an imperfect creature who needs improvement: he is a rebel who must lay down his arms. Laying down your arms, surrendering, saying you are sorry, realizing that you have been on the wrong track and getting ready to start life over again from the ground floor-that is the only way out of a "hole." This process of surrender-this movement full speed astern-is repentance.