August 26, 2015

Wednesday Wisdom No. 20


My father's mother
Picked up the shell
And turned it about
In her hand that was
Crinkled, glossy and
Twined with veins,
The fingers rumpled
Into soft roses
At the knuckles, and
She said, "Why did
That little creature
Take so much trouble
To be beautiful?"

~ Valerie Worth, All the Small Poems and Fourteen More

August 19, 2015

Wednesday Wisdom No. 19


“Both the children were looking up into the Lion’s face as he spoke these words.  And all at once (they never knew exactly how it happened) the face seemed to be floating, and such a sweetness and power rolled about them and over them and entered them that they felt they had never really been happy or wise or good, or even alive and awake, before.  And the memory of that moment stayed with them always, so that as long as they both lived, if ever they were sad or afraid or angry, the thought of all that golden goodness, and the feeling that it was still there, quite close, just round some corner or just behind some door, would come back and make them sure, deep down inside, that all was well…” 

~ C. S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Magician's Nephew