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Till We Have Faces

Book by C.S. Lewis · 20 quotes · Orual, Love, Mythology

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Till We Have Faces Quotes

“And in that tenderness I even asked myself why I should save her from the Brute, or warn her against the Brute, or meddle with the matter at all. ‘She is happy,’ said my heart. ‘Whether it’s madness or a god or a monster, or whatever it is, she is happy. You have seen that yourself. She is ten times happier, there in the Mountain, than you could ever make her. Leave her alone. Don’t spoil it. Don’t mar what you’ve learnt you can’t make.”

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“You are indeed teaching me about kinds of love I did not know. It is like looking into a deep pit. I'm not sure whether I like your kind better than hatred. Oh, Orual- to take my love for you, because you know it goes down to my very roots and cannot be diminished by any other newer love, and then to make of it a tool, a weapon, a thing of policy and mastery, an instrument of torture- I begin to think I never knew you. Whatever comes after, something that was between us dies here.”

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“You are indeed teaching me about kinds of love I did not know. It is like looking into a deep pit. I am not sure whether I like your kind better than hatred. Oh, Orual — to take my love for you, because you know it goes down to my very roots and cannot be diminished by any other newer love, and then to make of it a tool, a weapon, a thing of policy and mastery, an instrument of torture — I begin to think I never knew you.”

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“Now, flung at me like frolic or insolence, there came as if it were a voice --no words-- but if you made it into words it would be, 'Why should your heart not dance?' It's the measure of my folly that my heart almost answered, Why not?' I had to tell myself over like a lesson the infinite reasons it had not to dance. (...) And yet, it was a lesson I could hardly keep in my mind. The sight of the huge world put mad ideas into me, as if I could wander away, wander forever, see strange and beautiful things, one after the other to the world's end. The freshness and wetness all about me (...) made me feel that I had misjudged the world; it seemed kind, and laughing, as if its heart also danced.”

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“Of the things that followed I cannot at all say whether they were what men call real or what men call dream. And, for all I can tell, the only difference is that what many see we call a real thing, and what only one sees we call a dream. But things that many see may have no taste or moment in them at all, and things that are shown only to one may be spears and water-spouts of truth from the very depth of truth.”

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