Never was there a more injurous mistake than to say it was thebusiness only of the clergy to care for souls. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
We don't have a soul. We are a soul. We have a body." George Macdonald, 1892 — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
The region of the senses is the unbelieving part of the human soul. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“One who not merely beholds the outward shows of things, but catches a glimpse of the soul that looks out of them ...” — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
Every soul has a landscape that changes with the wind that sweeps the sky, with the clouds that return after its rain. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
Never tell a child 'you have a soul.' Teach him, you are a soul; you have a body. — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“That God only whom Christ reveals to the humble seeker, can ever satisfy human soul.” — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“My soul was like a summer evening, after a heavy fall of rain, when the drops are yet glistening on the trees… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
There is no cheating in nature and the simple unsought feelings of the soul. There must be a truth involved in it,… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
It is vain to think that any weariness, however caused, any burden, however slight, may be got rid of otherwise than by… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“With every morn my life afresh must break The crust of self, gathered about me fresh; That thy wind-spirit may rush in… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
One who not merely beholds the outward shows of things, but catches a glimpse of the soul that looks out of them,… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“The claim that hung over him haunted his very life, turning the currents of his thought into channels of speculation unknown before.… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“The God who is ever uttering himself in the changeful profusions of nature; who takes millions of years to form a soul… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“...To trust in the strength of God in our weakness; to say, ‘I am weak: so let me be: God is strong;’… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
God Himself - His thoughts, His will, His love, His judgments are men's home. To think His thoughts, to choose His will,… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“Wherefore, we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and… — 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, farewell to the sonship. For what revelation, other than a partial, can the highest spiritual condition receive of the infinite God? But it is not therefore untrue because it is partial. Relatively to a lower condition… — George MacDonald Copy Share
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