The region belonging to the pure intellect is straitened: the imagination labours to extend its territories, to give it room. She sweeps… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
When we understand the outside of things, we think we have them. Yet the Lord puts his things in subdefined, suggestive shapes,… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
Common people, whether lords or shop-keepers, are slow to understand that possession, whether in the shape of birth or lands or money… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
In very truth, a wise imagination, which is the presence of the spirit of God, is the best guide that man or… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“No revelation can be other than partial. If for true revelation a man must be told all the truth, then farewell to revelation; yea,… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
In low theologies, hell is invariably the deepest truth, and the love of God is not so deep as hell. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
The region belonging to the pure intellect is straitened: the imagination labours to extend its territories, to give it room. She sweeps across the… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
Come, then, affliction, if my Father wills, and be my frowning friend. A friend that frowns is better than a smiling enemy. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
Ah, what is it we send up thither, where our thoughts are either a dissonance or a sweetness and a grace? — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
You must learn to be strong in the dark as well as in the day, else you will always be only half brave. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“Few delights can equal the mere presence of one whom we trust utterly.” — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“You have tasted of death now,” said the old man. “Is it good?” “It is good,” said Mossy. “It is better than life.” “No,”… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“I wish I had [made that song]. No, I don't That would be to take it from somebody else. But it's mine for all… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
Age is not all decay; it is the ripening, the swelling, of the fresh life within, that withers and bursts the husk. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
![“I wish I had [made that song]. No, I don't That would be to take it from somebody else. But it's mine for all that.' 'What makes it yours?' 'I love it so.' 'Does loving a thing make it yours?' 'I think so, Mother -- at least more than anything else can. . . . Love makes the only myness,' said…” quote by George MacDonald](https://sms4smile.com/quotes/img-quotes/722/george-macdonald-295_love_i-wish-i-had-made-that-song-no-i-don-t-t_35103.jpg)
