Quote by George MacDonald Download Open image ““I am ready,' I replied. 'How do you know you can do it?' 'Because you require it,' I answered.”” — George MacDonald ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 3.8 out of 5 (5 ratings) Copy quoteShare
“[H]e looked at me gravely and asked, "Are you ready?" "No," I said. "I'm pretty sure I've never been ready for anything that had… — Mira Grant Copy Share Image
“You'll never be ready. Ask yourself instead: "are you willing?".” — Keep going after your dreams MotivationGrid Copy Share Image
“I am willing to amuse you, if I can, sir—quite willing; but I cannot introduce a topic, because how do I know what will… — Charlotte Brontë 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