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The best fruits are plucked for each by some hand that is not his own.

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
Plucked
Fruits
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Best

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The central Christian belief is that Christ's death has somehow put us right with God and given us a fresh start. Theories as to how it did this are another matter. A good many different theories have been held as to how it works what all Christians are agreed on is that it does work.
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I have seen landscapes . . . which, under a particular light, make me feel that at any moment a giant might raise his head over the next ridge.
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this is a book about something
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You must be asking which door is the true one not which pleases you best
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Those who are enjoying something, or suffering something, together, are companions. Those who enjoy or suffer one another, are not.
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God, who foresaw your tribulation, has specially armed you to go through it, not without pain but without stain.
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And I was the Lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.
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I think that if God forgives us we must forgive ourselves. Otherwise, it is almost like setting up ourselves as a higher tribunal than Him.
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I read in a periodical the other day that the fundamental thing is how we think of God. By God Himself, it is not! How God thinks of us is not only more important, but infinitely more important.
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When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.
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Christ died for men precisely because men are not worth dying for to make them worth it.
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I think earth, if chosen instead of Heaven, will turn out to have been, all along, only a region in Hell and earth, if put second to Heaven, to have been from the beginning a part of Heaven itself.
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It is easy to acknowledge, but almost impossible to realize for long, that we are mirrors whose brightness, if we are bright, is wholly derived from the sun that shines upon us.
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The first demand any work of art makes upon us is to surrender. Look. Listen. Receive. Get yourself out of the way.
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Remember, we Christians think man lives for ever. Therefore, what really matters is those little marks or twists on the central, inside part of the soul which are going to turn it, in the long run, into a heavenly or a hellish creature.
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You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve, said Aslan. And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content.
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The true Christian's nostril is to be continually attentive to the inner cesspool.
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There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.... Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbor he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ verse latitat - the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.
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It is the magician's bargain: give up our soul, get power in return. But once our souls, that is, ourselves, have been given up, the power thus conferred will not belong to us. We shall in fact be the slaves and puppets of that to which we have given our souls.
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I thought I could describe a state make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state, but a process. It needs not a map, but a history, and if I don't stop writing that history at some quite arbitrary point, there's no reason why I should ever stop.
C. S. Lewis