The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That's the deal.

The gods, not out of mercy, have made me strong.

I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, hoever, turns out to be not a state but a process.

It is my opinion that a story worth reading only in childhood is not worth reading even then.

My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I comparing this universe with when I called it unjust?

We're free Narnians, Hwin and I, and I suppose, if you're running away to Narnia you want to be one too. In that case Hwin isn't your horse any longer. One might just as well say you're her human.