The bull's cousin, yeah - he's a cebu

You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him whom I so earnestly desired not to meet.

That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me.

In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape?

The words compelle intrare, compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.

—C.S. Lewis speaking of his conversion from atheism to Christianity in Surprised by Joy. (via doyouaioli)

Still, the longer I was around her, the more I could see the colours of her mind and the recesses of her heart. There was a beast in there. But there was also a girl who was afraid of being a beast, and who wondered if other people had beasts in their hearts too. There was strength, and there was also just the determination to look strong. She guarded herself like a secret.

—Jodi Lynn Anderson, Tiger Lily (via bananabar)

(Source: livedancelovesingcry, via bananabar)

doyouaioli:

When I was in high school, I gibed constantly at Dad for being a dag. Though I spent most of my secondary school years in braces and had more pimples than MySpace friends, I’d whimper disapprovingly at his faux pas:

‘Do you really have to tuck in your shirt all the time?’ ‘Who even listens to…