Best 4758 quotes in «heaven quotes» category

Hunter’s entire body writhed and squirmed. The side of his head was partly gone. A creature, like some monstrous melding of insect and eel, protruded from Hunter’s shoulder and as they stood there rooted in horror it took a vicious bite of Hunter’s flesh. Taylor was suddenly gone. Dekka’s face was grim, her eyes wet. “I tried . . . ,” Hunter said. He held up his hands, mimicked pressing them against his head. “It didn’t work.” “I can do it,” Sam said softly. “I’m scared,” Hunter said. “I know.” “It’s ’cause I killed Harry. God has to punish me. I tried to be good but I’m bad.” “No, Hunter,” Sam said gently. “You paid your dues. You fed the kids. You’re a good guy.” “I’m a good hunter.” “The best.” “I don’t know what’s happening. What’s happening, Sam?” “It’s just the FAYZ, Hunter,” Sam said. “Can the angels find me here so I can go to heaven?” Sam didn’t answer. It was Dekka who spoke. “Do you still remember any prayers, Hunter?” The insectlike creature was almost completely emerged from Hunter’s shoulder. Legs were becoming visible. It had wings folded against its body. It looked like a gigantic ant, or wasp, but silver and brass and covered with a sheen of slime. It was emerging like a chicken breaking out of an egg. Being born. And as the creature was born, it fed on Hunter’s numbed body. Jerky movements beneath Hunter’s shirt testified to more of the larvae emerging. “Do you remember ‘now I lay me down to sleep’?” Dekka asked. “Now I lay me down to sleep,” Hunter said. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep.” Sam raised his hands, palms out. “If I should die—” Twin beams of light hit Hunter’s chest and face. His shirt caught fire. Flesh melted. He was dead before he could feel anything. Sam played the light up and down Hunter’s body. The smell was sickening. Jack wanted to look away, but how could he? Sudden darkness as Sam terminated the light. Sam lowered his hands to his side. They stood there in the darkness. Jack breathed through his mouth, trying not to smell the burned flesh. Then they heard a sound. Many sounds. Sam raised his hands and pale light glowed. Hunter was all but gone. The things that had been inside him were still there.

Hundreds of wise men cannot make the world a heaven, but one idiot is enough to turn it into a hell.

I am a daughter, a son of God's, part of God's royal family. In the perspective of eternity, many things of this world are petty, beneath me: Vulgarity, stinginess, greed, grudges.

I am Angel. I am demon. I am woman. I am heaven and hell rolled into one. Kiss me passionately, let me taste your desire, feed my soul and your heaven becomes mine... Beget a maelstrom, feel the abyss shudder. hear the wails of anguish and my hell becomes yours...

I am fashionably unimpressed with the material world. I am moved by the beauty of aspiration, and I hope that I can elevate myself to the standards I have imposed on others.

I am not going in hell.. (First, because I don't believe in heaven and hell... they are just conceps for me...)... secondly I am going to the right way.. by not believing this fucking idiot... with title "GOD". (I am not a slave... in somebody else hands...)

I am not afraid to die because I know heaven is a place of artists, musicians and poets

I am not moved to love Thee, 0 my Lord, By any longing for Thy Promised Land; Nor by the fear of hell am I unmanned To cease from my transgressing deed or word. Tis Thou Thyself dost move me,—Thy blood poured Upon the cross from nailed foot and hand; And all the wounds that did Thy body brand; And all Thy shame and bitter death's award. Yea, to Thy heart am I so deeply stirred That I would love Thee were no heaven on high,— That I would fear, were hell a tale absurd! Such my desire, all questioning grows vain; Though hope deny me hope I still should sigh, And as ray love is now, it should remain. (To Christ Crucified)

I am persuaded our discontents, and murmurings with out unpleasing condition, and our covetous desires after more, are not so provoking to God, nor so destructive to the sinner, as our too sweet enjoying, and rest of spirit in a pleasing state. . . . Our rest is our heaven, and where we take our rest, there we make our heaven(457).

I am ready. I have repented my sins and soon I will be in heaven with Christ my savior. Now I must die like a man.

I am thankful to my physical existence on planet earth, that I completed my literary work from whatever mind I had left, before becoming mindless nonphysical.

I am the source of love I am the source of joy I am the heaven and earth I am the happiness.

I am writing this book aggressively because I do not want to provide you false information or wrong beliefs, or create more mass ignorance, but instead walk you through the righteous path to enter Heaven.

I asked, "You mean, you might as well spend your life going upward, through the happy places, since heaven and hell - the destinations - are the same thing anyway?" "Same - same," he said. "Same in end, so better to be happy on journey." I said, "So, if heaven is love, then hell is..." "Love, too," he said.

I believe each of us is a pilgrim in our own way; we are all lost souls, trying to find our way home.

I believed, from the solitary and thoughtful way in which my mother murmured her song, that she was alone. And I went softly into the room. She was sitting by the fire, suckling an infant, whose tiny hand she held against her neck. Her eyes were looking down upon its face, and she sat singing to it. I was so far right, that she had no other companion. I spoke to her, and she started, and cried out. But seeing me, she called me her dear Davy, her own boy! and coming half across the room to meet me, kneeled down upon the ground and kissed me, and laid my head down on her bosom near the little creature that was nestling there, and put its hand up to my lips. I wish I had died. I wish I had died then, with that feeling in my Heart! I should have been more fit for Heaven than I ever have been since.

I believe that a godly home is a foretaste of heaven. Our homes, imperfect as they are, must be a haven from the chaos outside. They should be a reflection of our eternal home, where troubled souls find peace, weary hearts find rest, hungry bodies find refreshment, lonely pilgrims find communion, and wounded spirits find compassion.

I believe we are more ready to embrace our lives in the here and now when we are able to recognize the continuity between the immanence of God in our world and eternity. Rather than simply waiting to be liberated to another time or place, we are being invited to collaborate in the healing and redemption of our world.

I believe we see a sliver of heaven when we dream, but our mortal fears and worries cloud our vision.

I beseech you, my brothers, remain faithful to the earth, and do not believe those who speak to you of otherworldly hopes! Poison-mixers are they, whether they know it or not. Despisers of life are they, decaying and poisoned themselves, of whom the earth is weary: so let them go. Once the sin against God was the greatest sin; but God died, and these sinners died with him. To sin against the earth is now the most dreadful thing, and to esteem the entrails of the unknowable higher than the meaning of the earth... What is the greatest experience you can have? It is the hour of the great contempt. The hour when your happiness, too, arouses your disgust, and even your reason and your virtue.

I can see only three planets in the entire universe, namely Heaven, Earth and Me! Heaven shines its glory on Earth and the rays keep falling on Me! I have a call!

I can stand up like this, with P2’s gun pointed at my back knowing it will go off at the touch of a finger if he decides I’ve said too much, and you know what? I’m not in the least worried about it. If I die, I go into that vision of heaven. I go to meet my Savior who has met my needs and loves me more than His own life.

I contemplate the impossible and achieve madness. This is my blessing. This is my curse. My heaven, my hell.

i didn't choose dark , neither dark chose me i didn't choose lonely , neither lonely choose me i didn't choose pain , neither pain choose me i didn't choose to live in hell , neither hell chose me i'm thrown there and force to be in that and i cant oppose Because you can't oppose when Something God Do for you. And i keep that person near to my God i trusted and love Even more then God.

I’d once heard a spiritual “riddle” that went like this: “What’s the only thing in heaven that’s the same as it was on earth?” The answer: the wounds in Jesus’ hands and feet.

I don't know where I am- somewhere between heaven and hell, a place of utter terror and endless confusion.

I don't know what actually goes down in heaven, if heaven has a grand staircase or a theater where you get to see your impact in a "Crash" kind of cinematic adventure, but I do know our stories work that way--the imprints of ourselves we press into the palms of others have the power to be passed and passed through the hands of many. That the smallest things we do, never thinking twice about them, might be the very things that keep a person alive, and breathing, and standing on that day. I've stopped doubting that kind of impact because believing in it - believing in miracles in the mud of the mundane - gives you so much more purpose than not believing in it at all.

I don't really like this song," Emma had said. "You told me it was your favourite." "It's beautiful. But it always makes me sad." "Why, love?" he'd asked gently. "It's about finding each other again. About someone coming home." Emma had lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him earnestly. "It's about losing someone, and having to wait until you're together in heaven." "There's nothing in the lyrics about heaven," he'd said. "But that's what it means. I can't bear the idea of being separated from you, for a lifetime or a year or even a day. So you mustn't go to heaven without me." "Of course not," he had whispered. "It wouldn't be heaven without you.

I distance myself from heaven and then complain that heaven is distant.

I do not worship a DEAD and buried Christ at Calvary. I worship a ressurected and LIVING Christ in Heaven! Jesus Christ is alive.

I don’t reckon it’s allowed, going round setting fire to people,” said Adam. “Otherwise people’d be doin’ it all the time.” “It’s all right if you’re religious,” said Brian reassuringly. “And it stops the witches from goin’ to Hell, so I expect they’d be quite grateful if they understood it properly.

I don’t think very many people get converted by someone telling them they are terrible. No one I’d want to rub shoulders with in Heaven, anyway.

I don’t know why everyone is still trying to find out whether heaven and hell exist. Why do we need more evidence? They exist here on this very Earth. Heaven is standing atop Mount Qasioun overlooking the Damascene sights with the wind carrying Qabbani’s dulcet words all around you. And hell is only four hours away in Aleppo where children’s cries drown out the explosions of mortar bombs until they lose their voice, their families, and their limbs. Yes, hell certainly does exist right now, at this moment, as I pen this poem. And all we’re doing to extinguish this hellfire is sighing, shrugging, liking, and sharing. Tell me: what exactly does that make us? Are we any better than the gatekeepers of hell?

I dream less of him, dear God be gloried, Does not shimmer everywhere any more. Fog has fallen on the whitened road, Shadows run over water to the shore. And all day the ringing did not quiet Over the expanse of ploughed up soil, Here most powerfully from Jonah Distant Laurel belltowers do recoil. I am trimming on the lilac bushes Branches, that are now in full flower; Ramparts of the ancient fortifying Two old monks are slowly walking over. Dear world, understood and corporeal, For me, one unseeing, set alive. Heal this soul of mine, the King of Heaven, With the icy comfort of not love.

I fear no hell, just as I expect no heaven. Nabokov summed up a nonbeliever’s view of the cosmos, and our place in it, thus: “The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.” The 19th-century Scottish historian Thomas Carlyle put it slightly differently: “One life. A little gleam of Time between two Eternities.” Though I have many memories to cherish, I value the present, my time on earth, those around me now. I miss those who have departed, and recognize, painful as it is, that I will never be reunited with them. There is the here and now – no more. But certainly no less. Being an adult means, as Orwell put it, having the “power of facing unpleasant facts.” True adulthood begins with doing just that, with renouncing comforting fables. There is something liberating in recognizing ourselves as mammals with some fourscore years (if we’re lucky) to make the most of on this earth. There is also something intrinsically courageous about being an atheist. Atheists confront death without mythology or sugarcoating. That takes courage.

If devils and evil ever existed on this Earth, they would have become slaves of mankind since mankind owns more negative attributes on this planet Earth than any other animal.

if anybody feels unworthy to enter heaven, well then at least let heaven enter his soul.

I feared the defining point of this Hell was its unrelenting uniformity, its lack of variation from type. If there was a heaven at the end of this, it must be filled with great variety, perhaps a multiplicity of intelligent species spread across universes. Yes, heaven would be as full of difference as Hell was of sameness.

If enlightened souls had created mankind’s society, then today the Earth would have become a Planet Heaven.

If eyes are windows to the soul, then tears are heavens rain.

If honor and wisdom and happiness are not for me, let them be for others. Let heaven exist, though my place be in hell.

If God spoke from Heaven, people will not understand Him, that is why Jesus came to earth

If God wants to move me, then I go! Yes, I am scared. Yes, I doubt. Yes, I am afraid things will crumble around me. Yes, I know this will be tough and this stress will sometimes seem unbearable. Yes, I know life will never be the same. But God wants to use ME! I am not saying no. I have my call. I must go!

If human beings cannot inhabit the earth, can we live in heaven?

If heaven was created only for the most stupid clown, then Mr Bean could have been the only righteous man on earth.

If heaven really exists: then, technically, living is an activity that believers keep themselves busy with — while they wait for their death.

If heaven was hot and hell was chilly, tell me, why would you go to heaven?

If heaven really exists: then heaven is the job, hell is unemployment, while life is merely an interview.

If I don't make it to heaven, at least I know what hell feels like with this heat!

If I might share my opinion, this world is hell, and our task is to create our own heaven.