It's always winter but it's never Christmas.

The stamp of the Saint is that he can waive his own rights and obey the Lord Jesus.

But in general, take my advice, when you meet anything that is going to be Human and isn’t yet, or used to be Human once and isn’t now, or ought to be Human and isn’t, you keep your eyes on it and feel for your hatchet.

Edmund, give a special goodbye to Trumpkin for me. He's been a brick.

You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

The real trouble is that 'kindness' is a quality fatally easy to attribute to ourselves on quite inadequate grounds. Everyone feels benevolent if nothing happens to be annoying him at the moment. Thus a man easily comes to console himself for all his other vices by a conviction that 'his heart's in the right place' and 'he wouldn't hurt a fly,' though in fact he has never made the slightest sacrifice for a fellow creature. We think we are kind when we are only happy: it is not so easy, on the same grounds, to imagine oneself temperate, chaste, or humble.

People blush at praise--not only praise of their bodies, but praise of anything that is theirs.