Quotes from book
Out of the Silent Planet

Out of the Silent Planet

Out of the Silent Planet is a science fiction novel by the British author C. S. Lewis, published in 1938 by John Lane, The Bodley Head. Five years later it was published in the U.S. . Two sequels were published in 1943 and 1945, completing the so-called Cosmic Trilogy or The Space Trilogy.The fragment of another sequel, evidently set prior to Perelandra and That Hideous Strength, was published as The Dark Tower in a 1977 collection of short fiction by Lewis and essays by four others, The Dark Tower and Other Stories


Clive Staples Lewis photo

“What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then–that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it.”

Hyoi, p. 73 <!-- 1965 edition -->
Out of the Silent Planet (1938)
Context: A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hmān, as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing. The séroni could say it better than I say it now. Not better than I could say it in a poem. What you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure, as the crah is the last part of a poem. When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then–that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it.

Clive Staples Lewis photo
Clive Staples Lewis photo

“A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered.”

Hyoi, p. 73 <!-- 1965 edition -->
Out of the Silent Planet (1938)
Context: A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hmān, as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing. The séroni could say it better than I say it now. Not better than I could say it in a poem. What you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure, as the crah is the last part of a poem. When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then–that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it.

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