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No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened.

C. S. Lewis

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C. S. Lewis
Age: 64 †
Born: 1898
Born: January 1
Died: 1963
Died: January 1
Autobiographer
Broadcaster
Essayist
Linguist
Literary Critic
Literary Historian
Literary Scholar
Medievalist
Novelist
Belfast
Ireland
Clive Hamilton
N. W. Clerk
CS Lewis
Clive Staples Lewis
C.S. Lewis
Desire
Opened
Soul
Desires
Find
Seriously
Ever
Miss
Constantly
Seek
Missing
Joy
Knock

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What do people mean when they say, 'I am not afraid of God because I know He is good'? Have they never even been to a dentist?
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We hear a great deal about the rudeness of the rising generation. I am an oldster myself and might be expected to take the oldsters' side, but in fact I have been far more impressed by the bad manners of parents to children than by those of children to parents.
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Because we love something else more than this world, we love even this world more than those who know no other.
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I have seen great beauty of spirit in some who were great sufferers. I have seen men, for the most part, grow better not worse with advancing years, and I have seen the last illness produce treasures of fortitude and meekness from most unpromising subjects.
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We may not be able to get certainty, but we can get probability, and half a loaf is better than no bread.
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Very few modern people think Friendship a love of comparable value or even a love at all.
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I am a product [...of] endless books. My father bought all the books he read and never got rid of any of them.... I had always the same certainty of finding a book that was new to me as a man who walks into a field has of finding a new blade of grass.
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Grief. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal.
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What the soul cries out for is the resurrection of the senses. Even in this life, matter would be nothing to us if it were not the source of sensations.
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When all the suns and nebulae have passed away, each one of you will still be alive.
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Necessity may not be the opposite of freedom, and perhaps a man is most free when, instead of producing motives, he could only say, I am what I do.
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If you are really a product of a materialistic universe, how is it that you don't feel at home there?
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The more pride we have, the more other people’s pride irritates us
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Literary experience heals the wound, without undermining the privilege, of individuality.
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The next best thing to being wise oneself is to live in a circle of those who are.
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We do not want merely to see beauty... we want something else which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. That is why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses, and nymphs and elves.
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God has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, most inexorable sense.
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But the most obvious fact about praise — whether of God or anything — strangely escaped me. I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honor. I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise unless (sometimes even if) shyness or the fear of boring others is deliberately brought in to check it.
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There is someone that I love even though I don't approve of what he does. There is someone I accept though some of his thoughts and actions revolt me. There is someone I forgive though he hurts the people I love the most. That person is......me.
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Men propound mathematical theorems in besieged cities, conduct metaphysical arguments in condemned cells, make jokes on the scaffold, discuss a new poem while advancing to the walls of Quebec, and comb their hair at Thermopylae. This is not panache it is our nature.
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