I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, hoever, turns out to be not a state but a process.

Not that I am (I think) in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not 'So there's no God after all,' but 'So this is what God's really like. Deceive yourself no longer.

Certain things, if not seen as lovely or detestable, are not being correctly seen at all.

Once people stop believing in God, the problem is not that they will believe in nothing; rather, the problem is that they will believe anything.

Through pride the devil became the devil. Pride leads to every vice, it's the complete anti-God state of mind.

It is, of course, quite true that God will not love you any less, or have less use for you, if you happen to have been born with a very second-rate brain.

Oh, I can see it happening, age after age, and growing worse the more you reveal your beauty: the son turning his back on the mother and the bride on her groom, stolen away by this everlasting calling, calling, calling of the gods. Taken where we can't follow. It would be far better for us if you were foul and ravening. We'd rather you drank their blood than stole their hearts. We'd rather they were ours and dead than yours and made immortal.