I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence.

True education is a kind of never ending story — a matter of continual beginnings, of habitual fresh starts, of persistent newness.

Venice seemed incredibly lovely, elvishly lovely--to me like a dream of Old Gondor, or Pelargir of the Numenorean Ships, before the return of the Shadow.

And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.

The wise speak only of what they know

Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!

My own dear mother was a martyr indeed, and it is not to everybody that God grants so easy a way to his great gifts as he did to Hilary and myself, giving us a mother who killed herself with labour and trouble to ensure us keeping the faith.