Quotes from Madeleine L'Engle

Only on love's terrible other side is found the place where lion and lamb abide. 'What's that? he asked sharply. something of Mado's. Marguerite Dominique de la Valeur Renier. She drew out the syllables lovingly. My husband's grandmother. Your great-great-grandmother. Love's terrible other side. The other side of the sun. You can't go around it, Theron. You have to go through it.

For want of a nail the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe the horse was lost; for want of a horse the rider was lost; for want of a rider the message was lost; for want of the message the battle was lost; for want of the battle the war was lost; for want of the war the kingdom was lost; and all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

How did all this happen? Isn't it wonderful? I feel as though I were just being born! I'm not alone anymore! Do you realize what that means to me?

Thee onnlly wway ttoo ccope withh ssometthingg ddeadly sseriouss iss ttoo ttry ttoo trreatt itt a llittlle lligghtly.

On a planet that has given in... you must prepare to be very strong.

So I know, with a sense of responsibility that hits me with a cold fist in the pit of my stomach, that what I am is going to make more difference to my own children and those I talk to and teach than anything I tell them.

What we are is going to be visible in our art, no matter how secular (on the surface) the subject may be.

The written word Should be clean as bone, Clear as light, Firm as stone. Two words are not As good as one. I

For me, this book activates both transparency and resistance. It urges us to open ourselves up to those hurts, those tribulations, those disappointments, those doubts, those uncertainties. All of which can be summarized as darkness. It walks us through that pain to a light within ourselves, sparking us to resist all that is not for our good and fight for a better way. Simply put, A Wrinkle in Time offers a glimpse of eternity

Sorry. I get attacks of quotitis every once in a while. It's a very rare disease with no cure. It usually attacks older people, and here i am afflicted with it at my tender age.

Papa's always had the ability to remember the good things and let the bad ones go. Not a bad ability. ... I'm not sure. I think we have to remember it all before we can forgive it.

Goodbyes are not easy, but I'm ready to move on. I'm not reluctant, Emma, not holding back. I don't have answers to the questions, but I have some good questions. I have loved life, but I believe that life is to be loved, it is a gift.

The most memorable books from our childhoods are those that make us feel less alone

we're all a grab bag of good and eveil, and by and large can't tell which is which

But if Hugh dies first, would I ever be able to stop saying, we and say I? I doubt it. I do not think that death can take away the fact that Hugh and I are we and us, a new creature born of the time of our marriage vows, which has grown along with us as our marriage has grown. Even during the times, inevitable in all marriages, when I have felt angry, or alienated, the instinctive we remains. And most growth has come during times of trial.

We are all broken, we human creatures, and to pretend we're not is to inhibit healing.

he seemed to be thinking at him.

The writing of a book may be a solitary business, it is done alone. The writer sits down with paper and pen, or typewriter, and, withdrawn from the world, tries to set down the story that is crying to be written. We write alone, but we do not write in isolation. No matter how fantastic a story line may be, it still comes out of our response to what is happening to us and to the world in which we live.

mother carefully turned over four slices of French toast, then said in a steady voice, "No, Meg. Don't hope it was a dream. I don't understand it any more than you do, but one thing I've learned is that you don't have to understand things for them to be.

Perhaps one of the most compelling and moving descriptions of that internal battle comes near the end of the book, when Mrs Whatsit tells the children that life, with its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is like a sonnet: "You're given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself. What you say is completely up to you.

In the literary world today, Christianity has pretty well replaced sex as the present pet taboo, not only because Christianity is so often distorted by Christians as well as non-Christians, but because it is too wild and free for the timid.

The lines of love cross time and space.

But there's a kind of vanity in thinking you can nurse the world. There's a kind of vanity in goodness.

Charles Wallace understands more than the rest of us, doesn't he?