“Those of us who have been true readers all our life seldom fully realize the enormous extension of our being which we owe to authors. We realize it best when we talk with an unliterary friend. He may be full of goodness and good sense but he inhabits a tiny world. In it, we should be suffocated. The man who is contented to be only himself, and therefore less a self, is in prison. My own eyes are not enough for me, I will see through those of others. Reality, even seen through the eyes of many, is not enough. I will see what others have invented . . .
Reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself. Like the night sky in the Greek poem, I see with a myriad eyes, but it is still I who see. Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing, I transcend myself; and am never more myself than when I do.”
Showing posts with label C. S. Lewis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label C. S. Lewis. Show all posts
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Consecrated (Catherine of Siena)
All has been consecrated. The creatures in the forest know this, the earth does, the seas do, the clouds know as does the heart full of lo...
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Look, it’s spring. And last year’s loose dust has turned into this soft willingness. The wind-flowers have come up trembling, slowly the bra...
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Watching that frenzy of insects above the bush of white flowers, bush I see everywhere on hill after hill, all I can think of is how terri...