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C.S. Lewis

C.S. Lewis


Clive Staples Lewis was born in Ireland, in Belfast on 29 November 1898. His mother was a devout Christian and made efforts to influence his beliefs. When she died in his early youth her influence waned and Lewis was subject to the musings and mutterings of his friends who were decidedly agnostic and atheistic. It would not be until later, in a moment of clear rationality that he first came to a belief in God and later became a Christian.

C. S. Lewis volunteered for the army in 1917 and was wounded in the trenches in World War I. After the war, he attended university at Oxford. Soon, he found himself on the faculty of Magdalen College where he taught Mediaeval and Renaissance English.

Throughout his academic career he wrote clearly on the topic of religion. His most famous works include the Screwtape Letters and the Chronicles of Narnia. The atmosphere at Oxford and Cambridge tended to skepticism. Lewis used this skepticism as a foil. He intelligently saw Christianity as a necessary fact that could be seen clearly in science.

"Surprised by Joy" is Lewis's autobiography chronicling his reluctant conversion from atheism to Christianity in 1931.
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I shrank from the faces and forms by which I was surrounded. They were all fixed faces, full not of possibilities but impossibilities,
topics: hell  
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I think all Christians would agree with me if I said that though Christianity seems at the first to be all about morality, all about duties and rules and guilt and virtue, yet it leads you on, out of all that, into something beyond. One has a glimpse of a country where they do not talk of those things, except perhaps as a joke. Every one there is filled full with what we should call goodness as a mirror is filled with light. But they do not call it goodness. They do not call it anything. They are not thinking of it. They are too busy looking at the source from which it comes. But
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el cristianismo asegura que Dios es bueno; que hizo todas las cosas y las hizo para el bien de ellas; que una de las cosas buenas que hizo, específicamente el libre albedrío de las creaturas racionales, por su misma naturaleza incluye la posibilidad del mal; y que las creaturas, valiéndose de esta posibilidad, se han vuelto malas.
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The last, and neo-Platonic, wave of Paganism which had gathered up into itself much from the preceding waves, Aristotelian, Platonic, Stoic, and what not, came far inland and made brackish lakes which have, perhaps, never been drained. Not all Christians at all times have detected them or admitted their existence: and among those who have done so there have always been two attitudes. There was then, and is still, a Christian ‘left’, eager to detect and anxious to banish every Pagan element; but also a Christian ‘right’ who, like St Augustine, could find the doctrine of the Trinity foreshadowed in the Platonici,2 or could claim triumphantly, like Justin Martyr, ‘Whatever things have been well said by all men belong to us Christians’.3
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There was a time in childhood when I didn't yet know I was ugly. Then there was a time when I believed as girls do— and as Batta was always telling me— that I could make it more tolerable by this or that done to my clothes or my hair. Now, I chose to be veiled.
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Ye cannot know eternal reality by a definition.
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If God is wiser than we, His judgments must differ from ours on many things, and not least on good and evil. What seems to us good may therefore not be good in His eyes, and what seems to us evil may not be evil.
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We know nothing of religion here: we think only of Christ. We know nothing of speculation. Come and see. I will bring you to Eternal Fact, the Father of all other fact-hood.
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i F God were good, He would wish to make His creatures perfectly happy, and if God were almighty He would be able to do what He wished. but the creatures are not happy. therefore God lacks either goodness, or power, or both.” this is the problem of pain, in its simplest form.
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stupider
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It's scarcity that enables a society to exist.
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Todos los días son «ahora» para Dios. Dios no recuerda que hicierais nada ayer; sencillamente os ve hacerlo, porque, aunque vosotros hayáis perdido el ayer, Él no. Él no os «prevé» haciendo cosas mañana; sencillamente os ve hacerlas, porque, aunque mañana aún no ha llegado para vosotros, para Él sí. Nunca suponéis que vuestras acciones en este momento serían menos libres porque Dios ve lo que estáis haciendo. Pues bien; Él ve vuestras acciones de mañana del mismo modo, porque Él ya está en el mañana, sencillamente mirándoos. En un sentido, Él no ve vuestra acción hasta que la habéis hecho; pero claro, el momento en que la habéis hecho es ya el «ahora» para Él.
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silliness,
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If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realise that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.
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Every natural love will rise again and live forever [89] in this country: but none will rise again until it has been buried.
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Aren't you ashamed of yourself?' 'No. Not as you mean. I do not look at myself. I have given up myself...
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But I cannot tell that to this old sinner, and I cannot comfort him either; he has made himself unable to hear my voice. If I spoke to him, he would hear only growlings and roarings. Oh Adam’s sons, how cleverly you defend yourselves against all that might do you good! But I will give him the only gift he is still able to receive
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There have been men before now who got so interested in proving the existence of God that they came to care nothing for God Himself…as if the good Lord had nothing to do but exist! There have been some who were so occupied in spreading Christianity that they never gave a thought to Christ.
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All mortals tend to turn into the thing they are pretending to be.
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Some are, no doubt. The sensualist, I’ll allow ye, begins by pursuing a real pleasure, though a small one. His sin is the less. But the time comes on when, though the pleasure becomes less and less and the craving fiercer and fiercer, and though he knows that joy can never come that way, yet he prefers to joy the mere fondling of unappeasable lust and would not have it taken from him. He’d fight to the death to keep it. He’d like well to be able to scratch: but even when he can scratch no more he’d rather itch than not.
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