Wednesday, September 16, 2009

till we have faces

Often my teacher would say, "Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you mean; that's the whole art and joy of words." A glib saying.
When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?
C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces

1 comment:

  1. My sister had that last sentence scrawled on one of her notebooks when we were in high school. I don't think I ever connected the dots on who it was quoting (it's a little strange that I never asked her, either). Thanks for posting this.

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