Keys Quotes
The mold in which a key is made would be a strange thing, if you had never seen a key: and the key itself a strange thing if you had never seen a lock. Your soul has a curious shape because it is a hollow made to fit a particular swelling in the infinite contours of the divine substance, or a key to unlock one of the doors in the house with many mansions. Your place in heaven will seem to be made for you and you alone, because you were made for it -- made for it stitch by stitch as a glove...
C. S. Lewis
With a changing key,
you unlock the house where
the snow of what’s silenced drifts.
Just like the blood that bursts from
Your eye or mouth or ear,
so your key changes.
Changing your key changes the word
That may drift with flakes.
Just like the wind that rebuffs you,
Clenched round your word is the snow.
Paul Celan
There is no question of doing is purely on our own. But we must act. Grace is opposed to earning, not to effort. And it is well-directed, decisive, and sustained effort that is the key to the keys of the kingdom and to the life of restful power in ministry and life that those keys open to us.
Dallas Willard
Listen, children: Your father is dead. From his old coats. I'll make you little jackets; I'll make you little trousers. From his old pants. There'll be in his pockets. Things he used to put there, Keys and pennies. Covered with tobacco; Dan shall have the pennies. To save in his bank; Anne shall have the keys. To make a pretty noise with. Life must go on, Though good men die; Anne, eat your breakfast; Dan, take your medicine; Life must go on; I forget just why.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
He Sat in the window thinking. Man has a tropism for order. Keys in one pocket, change in the other. Mandolins are tuned G D A E. The physical world has a tropism for disorder, entropy. Man against Nature...the battle of the centuries. Keys yearn to mix with change. Mandolins strive to get out of tune. Every order has within it the germ of destruction. All order is doomed, yet the battle is worth wile.
Nathanael West
I flipped down the visor so I could check myself in the mirror, and something small and heavy dropped into my lap.
I froze, my breath stuck in my throat. What—?
Gingerly, I looked down. It wasn’t a grenade. It was a key ring. One key was for this van. I looked at it blankly.
“Well, that’ll simplify things,” Fang said.
James Patterson