Best 1914 quotes in «hell quotes» category

On Sundays, Presbyterians were not allowed to eat hot food or read the funny papers or travel the shortest journey; parents believed in Hell and believed tiny babies could go there. Baptists were not supposed to know, up until their dying day, how to play cards or dance. And so on.

On the one hand you had people constantly fighting Hell; on the other, you had people constantly fighting Hell on earth.

Ortez sauntered over to the nearest wall intercom. "Bridge, this is the captain -- what the hell's going on up there? I didn't schedule a combat drill for today." Hell, it occurred to him -- he hadn't scheduled any kind of drill for at least four months. On the other end of the line, young 2nd lieutenant Cedric Pankow, the com officer, let it fall.

O, the sorrow of us all, to wander the earth in a shell. And looking to the heavens, we lay to rest in hell. The suffering of the innocent in the midst of Jacob’s well. How the miles fled between us, and that distance is still great. Though on the same shore we now sit, in temporal quietude to wait. The moon is our bright witness; it will lead us to the gate.

Our hearts are all prison walls when we hold people captive with chains of unforgiveness.

Our world must be hell, then. It must be the hell of some other place where all of us committed atrocious sins of some sort, and now we’re stuck here until we die and either come back or are whisked off to some other hell. It couldn’t be worse than this one, though.

Over the years of being stuck in this shit hole called life, I had debated religion and church, souls and freewill, heaven and hell. I had come to a few conclusions. Mankind was too self-serving to understand what He had wanted from them. It wasn’t a million dollar church, it wasn’t perfection, it wasn’t about how many times you prayed or apologized or that one day a month where you fed the homeless. And you weren’t banished to hell for that one time you told someone to fuck off. You didn’t end up in hell for that time you were a bitch to your fellow man. It took a lot to end up there, and man worked at it with crazed enthusiasm. They worked harder at chiseling their way into hell, than any other action.

Paper terrorists, contrast flow as a domesticated emperoist. Building my empire, elevation to the Heaven is a high that keeps me higher. A pillar of fire, lead us to the Promised Land even though our nature makes us a liar. Always set my feet on the right path you've paved but when setting out on a path of revenge, make sure you dig up two graves. It's either love or hate and who can relate? Enter the Kingdom of Heaven or Hell is your fate.

Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe!

Pain, sorrow, anger, these are all powerful emotions. Allowed to rule and left unchecked, they would destroy you. However, through training and willpower you can choose to harness those feelings and use them for something great.

Paradise is near to you when you are powerful; hell is nearer when you are weaker

Pastor Russell lived in nearby Pittsburgh and said that there was no hell. This was terrible for we all knew that everyone but the Baptists were going there, so to believe there was no hell upset all the countryside theology.

People are stupid, because of watching the same over and over and over and over - which goes as far as I can tell hell.

People debate over whether or not there is a literal Hell, in the literal sense often described as fire and eternal torture, which, to many, seems to be too harsh a punishment. If men really want to fear something, they should be fearing separation from God, the supposedly more comforting alternative to a literal Hell. For separation from the authorship of love, mercy, and goodness is the ultimate torture. If you think a literal Hell sounds too bad, you are very much underestimating the pain of being absolutely, wholly separated from the goodness while exposed to the reality of the holiness of God.

People fear hell, that's because they did not serve the army. In hell they will have a Demon; in the army, several will torment their lives. The good thing about the army is that, after a year, they all become good. But in hell the evil wolf remains eternal.

People often speak of hell, not wanting to go there, avoiding it..etc. I never had that problem because hell is a state of mind. Look around you; rape, murder, wars, hatred, envy...my friend; you're already there!!

People say things are going to be Hell without even the slightest notion of what Hell is.

People were leaping off La Bestia and running as if chased by demons spilling from hell. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Melquis and Edith jump together; I could tell Solyapa was still in front of me. I let go more out of reflex than plan, and regretted it that instant, thinking that perhaps I should have helped Solyapa first. No matter, I was surprised by the jerky scrape of dirt against my flesh as it tugged and wrestled against me as I kept moving forward despite being on the ground. The dirt itself was surprisingly hot; there was red in my eyes, nothing was clear; I felt a pain over the front of my head and my right eye was throbbing.

People who have never been through any sort of shit always assume that they know how you should react to having your life destroyed. And the people who have been through shit think you're suppose to deal with it the exact same way they did. As if there's a playbook for surviving hell.

Perhaps hell is like that; a discordant confusion of anxious souls. Some argued, some slept, some shouted, some wept, some wrote, some sketched and many conspired about their coming interrogation. But mostly they did no more than stare into space, eyes unfocused as they tried to see tomorrow.

People who go through hell in the Heaven of Earth are mostly the people who live their lives according to some religious rules!

People will say,"there's heaven and hell", and they take it so serious that they look so sorrowful with penitence. I would rather ask them to show me the route that leads to heaven or hell.

​Per me si va ne la città dolente, Per me si va ne l'etterno dolore, Per me si va tra la perduta gente. Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore: Fecemi la divina potestate La somma sapienza e'l primo amore Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterno duro. Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'intrate.

Preaching Hell, blood and fire upon me, promising a future of misery and condemnation. I was a gutter rat, a wolf, a Jezebel, a whore, the devil .

PORTER This is a lot of knocking! Come to think of it, if a man were in charge of opening the gates of hell to let people in, he would have to turn the key a lot.

Plenty of things in the universe are old, my dear. That's like saying Florida is a metaphor for hell because they're both hot - though your grandfather would agree wholeheartedly with that, I suppose.

Politics is the struggle for power. Politics is hell.

Ramadi’s sky was generously filled with stars. Celestial ornaments set against a banner of a deep blue velvet sky. It was a place where hell, death, and heaven were so clear and the closest I’ve felt to all three in my life.

¿Qué es peor, el infierno o nada?

Rabe'a al-Adiwiyah, a great woman saint of Sufism, was seen running through the streets of her hometown, Basra, carrying a torch in one hand and a bucket of water in the other. When someone asked her what she was doing, she answered, 'I am going to take this bucket of water and pour it on the flames of hell, and then I am going to use this torch to burn down the gates of paradise so that people will not love God for want of heaven or fear of hell, but because He is God.

Priscilla is in hell. Well, we all are. Life is torture, consciousness is torture. All our little devices are just morphia to stop us from screaming . . . We're each of us screaming away in our own private padded cell.

Pride is born as a mountaintop on a valley, but dies as an abyss in which it is too deep and too dark to see the better.

Pye turned his paw over and chewed his claws. “Humph. What you think of me is none of my business.” “You don’t know, do you?” “Know more than you . . . Know what?” “You are dead.” Pye patted his paws. “No, I’m not.” He rolled on his back and stretched, enjoying the warmth of the fire. “I’ve been here since 1665.” Pye chuckled. “You are, if I may so, in remarkably good condition.” Apart from the hole in your head, missing tail, and pulmonic plague cough. “I’ve seen them come. Seen them go. Seem them hang around in limbo. That’s what it’s called when beings don’t leave this Earth.” “Purgatory!” “I am responsible for many deaths,” Rita said. “You!?” “They couldn’t build the graves fast enough to bury the bodies.” “I don’t understand how a mere stump-tailed fur ball could endanger life.” “If I were you I'd think that.” A silence followed before Rita said, “I did not work alone.” “Oh?

Real religion does not mean Gods - it does not mean Angels and Demons - it does not mean miracles of healing. Real religion is all about you and your fellow humans. There is nothing else.

Remember you are never really alone. Although it may feel like it for very long stretches of time.

Relation with another man or a woman, other than one’s own husband or a wife, is a direct cause for a life in hell.

Refusal to engage in spiritual warfare does not exempt you from being among the next casualties of war

Religion is great at instilling the fear of hell, but awful at giving a taste of heaven.

Samuel understood at last why this being hated men and women so much: he hated them because they were so like himself, because the worst of the was mirrored in them. He was the source of all that was bad in men and women, but he had none of the greatness, and none of the grace, of which human beings were capable, so that by only by corrupting them was his own pain diminished, and thus his existence made more tolerable.

Roots cannot grow into trees if there are no supernatural elements in the soil. Man cannot grow wealthy and famous if he doesn't contribute to either, the good or evil.

Sanity for anyone is pretty much out of the question, as both the saint and the sinner appear only equally insane: the saint appears it for actually believing in a place of eternal torment; the sinner, for deciding to risk going to that place of eternal torment.

Scarcely has night arrived to undeceive, unfurling her wings of crepe (wings drained even of the glimmer just now dying in the tree-tops); scarcely has the last glint still dancing on the burnished metal heights of the tall towers ceased to fade, like a still glowing coal in a spent brazier, which whitens gradually beneath the ashes, and soon is indistinguishable from the abandoned hearth, than a fearful murmur rises amongst them, their teeth chatter with despair and rage, they hasten and scatter in their dread, finding witches everywhere, and ghosts. It is night... and Hell will gape once more.

Science has never killed or persecuted a single person for doubting or denying its teaching, and most of these teaching have been true; but religion has murdered millions for doubting or denying her dogmas and most of these dogmas have been false. All stories about gods and devils, of heavens and hells, as they do not conform to nature, and are not apparent to sense, should be rejected without consideration. Beyond the universe there is nothing and within the universe the supernatural does not and cannot exist. Of all deceivers who have plagued mankind, none are so deeply ruinous to human happiness as those imposters who pretend to lead by a light above nature. The lips of the dead are closed forever. There comes no voice from the tomb. Christianity is responsible for having cast the fable of eternal fire over almost every grave.

She'd created her own hell, and now that she had learned to control her fear, she knew how to create her own paradise.

Self-consciousness is hell.

Shakespeare's Iago could be played as a soul in hell, driven, dark and desperate, willing to do anything, willing to use anyone, in order to escape from that hell.

She glanced outside at the sky, filled with clouds and smog. All the pollution, all that hell—even the stars didn’t stand a chance.

She had seen him once, smiling a little through another friar’s sermon about Hell, saying after the other left that fear of Hell is one of many paths to it. Forget Hell and love one another. That is all He wants of you.

She has vivid pictures of Hell. It is as hot as Rajputana in June and everyone is made to learn seven foreign languages . . .

She said to me, "I'm just looking towards the day when I get out of this hell, and asking myself if I will ever get out of it." And I said to her, "Something I have learned in life is that we often don't get out of hell; we just learn how to live in it." And tears fell down her face.