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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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What I'd like to understand," said the Ghost, "is what you're here for, as pleased as Punch, you, a bloody murderer, while I've been walking the streets down there and living in a place like a pigstye all these years." "That is a little hard to understand at first. But it is all over now. You will be pleased about it presently. Till then there is no neet to bother about it." "No need to bother about it? Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" "No, not as you mean. I do not look at my self. I have given up myself. I had to, you know, after the murder. That was what it did for me. And that was how everything began.
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I did not know then, however, as I do now, the strongest reason for distrust. The gods never send us this invitation to delight so readily or so strongly as when they are preparing some new agony. We are their bubbles; they blow us up big before they prick us.
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who would simply have ignored such a subject out of existence if any modernized booby had been so unfortunate as to raise it in her presence.
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All that is fully real is Heavenly.
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Yes,’ he said, more quietly now. ‘It’s I who should be pitied. It’s I who am asked to give up part of myself. But I’ll do my duty. I’ll not ruin the land to save my own girl… I’m sorry for the girl. But the Priest’s right. Ungit must have her due. What’s one girl—why, what would one man be?—against the safety of us all? It’s only sense that one should die for many. It happens in every battle.
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Isn’t it absolutely essential to keep a fierce Left and a fierce Right, both on their toes and each terrified of the other? That’s how we get things done.
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La urma urmei, sunt două feluri de oameni: unii care îi spun lui Dumnezeu: "Facă-se voia Ta" si alții cărora Dumnezeu le spune: "Facă-se voia ta
topics: faith , will  
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No, no, Maia. Ashamed of looking like a mortal—ashamed of being a mortal.’ ‘But how could you help that?’ ‘Don’t you think the things people are most ashamed of are the things they can’t help?
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when you mean well, He always takes you to have meant better than you knew.
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It’s strange to think how Bardia went to and fro daily between Queen and wife, well assured he did his duty by both (as he did) and without a thought, doubtless, of the pother he made between them. This is what it is to be a man. The one sin the gods never forgive us is that of being born women.
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There have been some who were so occupied in spreading Christianity that they never gave a thought to Christ.
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The Christians describe the Enemy as one “without whom Nothing is strong”. And Nothing is very strong: strong enough to steal away a man’s best years not in sweet sins but in a dreary flickering of the mind over it knows not what and knows not why, in the gratification of curiosities so feeble that the man is only half aware of them, in drumming of fingers and kicking of heels, in whistling tunes that he does not like, or in the long, dim labyrinth of reveries that have not even lust or ambition to give them a relish, but which, once chance association has started them, the creature is too weak and fuddled to shake off.
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The Moral Law does not give us any grounds for thinking that God is "good" in the sense of being indulgent, or soft, or sympathetic. There is nothing indulgent about the Moral Law. It is as hard as nails. It tells you to do the straight thing and it does not seem to care how painful, or dangerous, or difficult it is to do.
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Es inútil intentar ser «nosotros mismos» sin Él. Cuanto más nos resistamos a Él e intentemos vivir por nuestra cuenta, más nos vemos dominados por nuestra herencia genética, nuestra educación, nuestro entorno y nuestros deseos naturales.
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Eso explica lo que siempre solía intrigarme acerca de los escritores cristianos: parecen ser tan estrictos en un momento dado y tan libres y desenfadados en otro. Hablan acerca de meros pecados de pensamiento como si estos fueran inmensamente importantes, y luego hablan de los más terribles asesinatos y las más pavorosas traiciones como si lo único que hubiera que hacer fuese arrepentirse y todo será perdonado. En lo que siempre están pensando es en la marca que cada uno de nuestros actos deja en ese minúsculo núcleo central que nadie ve en esta vida pero que cada uno de nosotros tendrá que soportar —o disfrutar- para siempre.
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He is the self-expression of the Father—what the Father has to say.
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Good and evil both increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The
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The woman is in what may be called the ‘All-I-want’ state of mind. All she wants is a cup of tea properly made, or an egg properly boiled, or a slice of bread properly toasted. But she never finds any servant or any friend who can do these simple things ‘properly’—because her ‘properly’ conceals an insatiable demand for the exact, and almost impossible, palatal pleasures which she imagines she remembers from the past; a past described by her as ‘the days when you could get good servants’ but known to us as the days when her senses were more easily pleased and she had pleasures of other kinds which made her less dependent on those of the table.
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Consequently, when Christ becomes man it is not really as if you could become one particular tin soldier. It is as if something which is always affecting the whole human mass begins, at one point, to affect the whole human mass in a new way. From that point the effect spreads through all mankind. It makes a difference to people who lived before Christ as well as to people who lived after Him. It makes a difference to people who have never heard of Him. It is like dropping into a glass of water one drop of something which gives a new taste or a new colour to the whole lot. But, of course, none of these illustrations really works perfectly. In the long run God is no one but Himself and what He does is like nothing else. You could hardly expect it to be otherwise.
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People need to be reminded more often than they need to be instructed." The
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