I can't imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once.

We may be sure that the characteristic blindness of the twentieth century [...] lies where we have never suspected it [...] The only palliative is [...] by reading old books. [...] the books of the future would be just as good [...], but unfortunately we cannot get at them.

God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains.

If you could see humanity spread out in time, as God sees it, it would look like one single growing thing-rather like a very complicated tree. Every individual would appear connected with every other.

It is only our bad temper that we put down to being tired or worried or hungry; we put our good temper down to ourselves.

Above all else , the devil can not stand to be mocked.

To please God… to be a real ingredient in the divine happiness… to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delighted in as an artist delights in his work or a father in a son- it seems impossible, a weight or burden of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is.