Faith (n.) , to be legitimate, must always rest on experience.
Faith (n.) that is merely demanded is a hopeless petitio principii — theologians should stop insisting on its necessity and see what can be done to make it possible.
Faith (n.) is a charisma for those who have it, but no way for those who must understand before they can believe — and even believers hold that God gave us reason for something better than lying and cheating.
Faith (n.) resting only on tradition easily degenerates into habit — the much-vaunted child-likeness of faith is then just infantile dependence that prevents the struggle to understand.
Faith (n.) can be put off like a mantle only because another lies close to hand; no one escapes the prejudice of being human.
Faith (n.) ought to rest on intense inner experiences that ripen the personality — and they are the foundation not of faith alone but of knowledge too.
Faith (n.) and knowledge split in the eighteenth century: faith lacked experience and science left out the soul.
Faith (n.) is as absolute as science, which is why faith and knowledge get along no better than Christians do with each other.
Faith (n.) gives an unconscious content a value it would otherwise attain only later, and in a very unpleasant form.
Faith (n.) is a secondary phenomenon: something happened to us first that instilled trust and loyalty.
Faith (n.) is not knowledge and knowledge is not faith: 'knowledge through faith' seeks in vain to bridge the gulf.
Faith (n.) is a charisma, a gift of grace, not a method — which is why the Protestant, lacking one, turns to Loyola's exercises.
Faith (n.) and knowledge need not conflict — one can simply know, and also believe what seems probable; knowledge alone, like faith alone, is always insufficient.
Faith (n.) is a charisma not granted to all; the rest of us were given thought, which can also strive after the highest things.
Faith (n.) may sacrifice the intellect, provided there is one to sacrifice, but never feeling; it clings to a world still run by kindly parents.
Faith (n.) holds that the Son of God died — believable because absurd — and rose from the grave — certain because impossible.
Faith (n.) raises a sterile question when we ask whether its assertions are true — the existence of the assertion is itself the fact, and no phenomenon can ever be disposed of by rational criticism.
Faith (n.) can sometimes be a substitute for lack of experience.
Faith (n.) is valuable only when spontaneous; enforced faith is nothing but spiritual cramp — and a transference can no more be demanded.
Faith (n.) does not exclude thought, man's strongest weapon, yet many believers are so afraid of science and psychology that they turn a blind eye to the powers that control man's fate.