Zitate von Clive Staples Lewis
Clive Staples Lewis
Geburtstag: 29. November 1898
Todesdatum: 24. November 1963
Andere Namen:C.S. Lewis
C. S. Lewis war ein irischer Schriftsteller und Literaturwissenschaftler. Er lehrte am Magdalen College der University of Oxford und hatte den Lehrstuhl für Englische Literatur des Mittelalters und der Renaissance an der University of Cambridge inne. Er ist vor allem im angloamerikanischen Raum bekannt für seine Kinderbuchserie Die Chroniken von Narnia.
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deutscher SchriftstellerZitate Clive Staples Lewis
„Wer alles durchschaut, sieht nichts mehr.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Die Abschaffung des Menschen, S.82
„Ich glaube an Christus, so wie ich glaube, dass die Sonne aufgegangen ist, nicht nur, weil ich sie sehe, sondern weil ich durch sie alles andere sehen kann.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Ist Theologie Dichtung?, in: Das Gewicht der Herrlichkeit und andere Essays
„Ein bloßer Mensch, der solche Dinge sagen würde, wie Jesus sie gesagt hat, wäre kein großer Morallehrer. […] Entweder war – und ist – dieser Mensch Gottes Sohn, oder er war ein Narr oder Schlimmeres. Wir können ihn als Geisteskranken einsperren, wir können ihn verachten oder als Dämon töten. Oder wir können ihm zu Füßen fallen und ihn Herr und Gott nennen. Aber wir können ihn nicht mit gönnerhafter Herablassung als einen großen Lehrer der Menschheit bezeichnen. Das war nie seine Absicht; diese Möglichkeit hat er uns nicht offengelassen.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Pardon, ich bin Christ. 18. Auflage. Brunnen Verlag, Basel 2006. ISBN 3-7655-3150-2 S. 56
„You can't get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
As quoted in Of This and Other Worlds (1982) by Walter Hooper, Preface, p. 9
„Probably half the questions we ask — half our great theological and metaphysical problems — are like that.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask — half our great theological and metaphysical problems — are like that.
„There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.
Preface
„Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go... But, of course, ceasing to be "in love" need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense—love as distinct from "being in love"—is not merely a feeling.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. There are many things below it, but there are also things above it. You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling... Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go... But, of course, ceasing to be "in love" need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense—love as distinct from "being in love"—is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by (in Christian marriages) the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God... "Being in love" first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it.
Book III, Chapter 6, "Christian Marriage"
„A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hmān, as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing. The séroni could say it better than I say it now. Not better than I could say it in a poem. What you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure, as the crah is the last part of a poem. When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then–that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it.
Hyoi, p. 73 <!-- 1965 edition -->
„Among these Jews there suddenly turns up a man who goes about talking as if He was God. He claims to forgive sins. He says He has always existed.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: Among these Jews there suddenly turns up a man who goes about talking as if He was God. He claims to forgive sins. He says He has always existed. He says He is coming to judge the world at the end of time. Now let us get this clear. Among Pantheists, like the Indians, anyone might say that he was a part of God, or one with God: there would be nothing very odd about it. But this man, since He was a Jew, could not mean that kind of God. God, in their language, meant the Being outside of the world, who had made it and was infinitely different from anything else. And when you have grasped that, you will see that what this man said was, quite simply, the most shocking thing that has ever been uttered by human lips.
Book II, Chapter 3, "The Shocking Alternative"
„Friends look in the same direction. Lovers look at each other — that is, in opposite directions. To transfer bodily all that belongs to one relationship into the other is blundering.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: Friends are not primarily absorbed in each other. It is when we are doing things together that friendship springs up – painting, sailing ships, praying, philosophizing, fighting shoulder to shoulder. Friends look in the same direction. Lovers look at each other — that is, in opposite directions. To transfer bodily all that belongs to one relationship into the other is blundering.
„They might break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: If we are going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things — praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts — not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They might break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.
„He could see also (but the word "seeing" is now plainly inadequate) wherever the ribbons or serpents of light intersected minute corpuscles of momentary brightness: and he knew somehow that these particles were the secular generalities of which history tells — people, institutions, climates of opinion, civilizations, arts, sciences and the like — ephemeral coruscations that piped their short song and vanished.“
— Clive Staples Lewis
Context: And now, by a transition which he did not notice, it seemed that what had begun as speech was turned into sight, or into something that can be remembered only as if it were seeing. He thought he saw the Great Dance. It seemed to be woven out of the intertwining undulation of many cords or bands of light, leaping over and under one another and mutually embraced in arabesques and flower-like subtleties. Each figure as he looked at it became the master-figure or focus of the whole spectacle, by means of which his eye disentangled all else and brought it into unity — only to be itself entangled when he looked to what he had taken for mere marginal decorations and found that there also the same hegemony was claimed, and the claim made good, yet the former pattern thereby disposed but finding in its new subordination a significance greater than that which it had abdicated. He could see also (but the word "seeing" is now plainly inadequate) wherever the ribbons or serpents of light intersected minute corpuscles of momentary brightness: and he knew somehow that these particles were the secular generalities of which history tells — people, institutions, climates of opinion, civilizations, arts, sciences and the like — ephemeral coruscations that piped their short song and vanished. The ribbons or cords themselves, in which millions of corpuscles lived and died, were the things of some different kind. At first he could not say what. But he knew in the end that most of them were individual entities. If so, the time in which the Great Dance proceeds is very unlike time as we know it. Some of the thinner more delicate cords were the beings that we call short lived: flowers and insects, a fruit or a storm of rain, and once (he thought) a wave of the sea. Others were such things we think lasting: crystals, rivers, mountains, or even stars. Far above these in girth and luminosity and flashing with colours form beyond our spectrum were the lines of personal beings, yet as different from one another in splendour as all of them from the previous class. But not all the cords were individuals: some of them were universal truths or universal qualities. It did not surprise him then to find that these and the persons were both cords and both stood together as against the mere atoms of generality which lived and died in the clashing of their streams: But afterwards, when he came back to earth, he wondered. And by now the thing must have passed together out of the region of sight as we understand it. For he says that the whole figure of these enamored and inter-inanimate circlings was suddenly revealed as the mere superficies of a far vaster pattern in four dimensions, and that figure as the boundary of yet others in other worlds: till suddenly as the movement grew yet swifter, the interweaving yet more ecstatic, the relevance of all to all yet more intense, as dimension was added to dimension and that part of him which could reason and remember was dropped further and further behind that part of him which saw, even then, at the very zenith of complexity, complexity was eaten up and faded, as a thin white cloud fades into the hard blue burning of sky, and all simplicity beyond all comprehension, ancient and young as spring, illimitable, pellucid, drew him with cords of infinite desire into its own stillness. He went up into such a quietness, a privacy, and a freshness that at the very moment when he stood farthest from our ordinary mode of being he had the sense of stripping off encumbrances and awaking from a trance, and coming to himself. With a gesture of relaxation he looked about him…
