The Hidden Paths

Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate

And though I oft have passed them by

A day will come at last when I

Shall take the hidden paths that run

West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

—JRR Tolkien

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A Hope

“Be thou content if on thy weary need

  There falls a sense of showers and of the spring;

  A hope that makes it possible to fling

  Sickness aside, and go and do the deed;

  For highest aspiration will not lead

  Unto the calm beyond all questioning.”

George MacDonald, Within and Without

The Good is Always Coming

Yet I know that good is coming to me – the good is always coming; though few have at all times the simplicity and the courage to believe it. What we call evil, is the only and best shape, which, for the person and his condition at the time, could be assumed by the best good. And so, farewell.

—George MacDonald

Thou Art Making Me

But thou art making me, I thank thee, sire.

What thou hast done and doest thou know’st well,

And I will help thee:—gently in thy fire

I will lie burning; on thy potter’s-wheel

I will whirl patient, though my brain should reel;

Thy grace shall be enough the grief to quell,

And growing strength perfect through weakness dire.

—George MacDonald

Hope

In that wretched hovel, his bare feet clasping the clay floor in constant search of a wavering equilibrium, with pitch darkness around him, and incapable of the simplest philosophical or religious reflection, he yet found life good. For it had interest. May, more, it had hope. I doubt however, whether there is any interest at all without hope.

—George MacDonald