Ruth Pitter Quotes

One's homesickness for Heaven finds at least an inn there; and it's an inn on the right road.

I would do any honest thing under the sun to know C. S. Lewis, and so am very grateful to you.

Poor comfort all comfort: once what the mouse had spared
Was enough, was delight, there where the heart was at home

All in November's soaking mist We stand and prune the naked tree, While all our love and interest Seem quenched in the blue-nosed misery.

I am much interested and honoured by what you tell me of C. S. Lewis.

We go, in winter's biting wind, On many a short-lived winter day, With aching back but willing mind To dig and double dig the clay.

We go in withering July
To ply the hard incessant hoe;
Panting beneath the brazen sky
We sweat and grumble, but we go.