There might be things more terrible even than losing someone you love by death.

For they (art and music) are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.

Authority exercised with humility, and obedience accepted with delight are the very lines along which our spirits live.

The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing, is to hand over your whole self--all your wishes and precautions--to Christ. But it is far easier than what we are all trying to do instead. For what we are trying to do is to remain what we call "ourselves," to keep personal happiness as our great aim in life, and yet at the same time be "good.

The human heart is not unchanging (nay, changes almost out of recognition in the twinkling of an eye).

You've no idea how good an old joke sounds when you take it out again after a rest of five or six hundred years.

Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape.