Best 1914 quotes in «hell quotes» category

A vortex opened not far from here and downtown Richmond is turning gray and I don't mean Confederate gray either. Richmond's new address is now a part of the Hell dimension. The whole world is doomed

A writer reports on the universe. When he presents his credentials, the gates of heaven and hell are equally opened to him. He can hear the devil’s defense and god’s accusations. The guards at the king’s heart let him in. The writer can be anything and any one he wants. When he writes he is a god, he creates.

Beat an archangel, divert war, save our souls. Simple as that?

Beauty is not a warrant for wellbeing and so does happiness not hinge on social success, but is only tangible via intricate, meandering discovery journeys in the mind. ("Absence of beauty was like hell")

Be careful with your faith ! It could make you see the good side of hell on earth.

Because of Jesus’ supposed predestination, God would have had to choose the people who would kill and betray his son, choose the method by which he would be killed (crucifixion), and the time at which the event would occur. Those guilty of killing Jesus would therefore be simply carrying out God’s wishes without the free will to have chosen a path for themselves.

Because the mankind very himself is a torturer, he created the concept of hell!

Behind lay loneliness and delusions. Ahead lay answers, and yes, Riley. So bent double beneath my load, but naked no longer, I followed the two demons deeper into Hell.

Being a Christian, for some other people, is not cool-praying, reading bible, lifting your hands while singing Christian songs, listening to a boring sermon? But would it still be cool if you're already in hell? Think about that.

Being an atheist means you have to realise that when you die, that really is it. You've got to make the most of what you've got here and spread as much influence as you can. I believe that you only live through the influence that you spread, whether that means having a kid or making music. ...I don't believe in heaven or hell, I don't really believe in that version.

Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved.

Believe that you are someone worth saving.

But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't going anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return. Was that so depressing? Who knows? Maybe that was 'despair.' What Turgenev called 'disillusionment.' Or Dostoyevsky, 'hell.' Or Somerset Maugham, 'reality.' Whatever the label, I figured it was me.

Beside me the monstrumologist murmured, "I believe I am in hell, therefore I am there.

Between death and hell a bridge shining silver wings offers his soul hope.

Biggest truth of life , which we all must accept. how beautiful love looks in movies and in books in real life it's absolutely opposite.more than 90 % people play game on the name of love and more than 90% people get betrayed.in real life love there is no respect or love and there is no value of beloved person feeling and emotions.many people come out from hell and start new life but the dirty part of it this many of die in that pain which another no one can not understand and can not feel.

But at length, O God, will you not cast Death and Hell into the lake of Fire - even into your own consuming self? Death shall then die everlastingly. ... Then indeed will you be all in all. For then our poor brothers and sisters, every one - O God, we trust in you, the Consuming Fire - shall have been burnt clean and brought home. For if their moans, myriads of ages away, would turn heaven for us into hell - shall a man be more merciful than God? Shall, of all His glories, His mercy alone not be infinite? Shall a brother love a brother more than The Father loves a son? - more than The Brother Christ loves His brother? Would He not die yet again to save one brother more?

But I will now go further, and confess to you that men get tired of everything, of heaven no less than of hell; and that all history is nothing but a record of the oscillations of the world between these two extremes. An epoch is but a swing of the pendulum; and each generation thinks the world is progressing because it is always moving.

But unlike you," said Jace, "there is nothing of hell in us." "You are mortal; you age; you die," the Queen said dismissively. "If that is not hell, pray tell me, what is?

Be prepared for a bit of a stinker! My little lambs always start bleating when told they're not going to Heaven.

Better hell on one's own terms than heaven on someone else's.

Birds are the eyes of heaven, and flies are the spies of hell.

Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of hell.

But evil is always illusion. It insists on the lie that we can have something for ourselves. This is the sole principle at work in hell. Lucifer chose to believe it; or, since it is unimaginable that he actually could have believed it, then we may say that he chose to pretend it might be. Very well, says Truth, you may pretend this. But the pretense will be, literally, your undoing. It will unmake you. You will have opted for something that is not, namely, a lie. Hell is built of lies.

But she's wrong about hell. You don't have to wait until you're dead to get there.

But what if the devil is just a woman who was banished to hell to stoke the flames as punishment for standing up to him?

Can I go to heaven if you don't? And if I do go someplace where my paradise is detached from your eternity, where the hell am I?

Captain considered it, and shrugged. "It seems right," he said. "It is not precisely what El wanted; but enthroned as he is in his Palace, viewing the Land from a high seat, he does not see its complexity. This Land was made wrong. All of his efforts to make it right only spread the wrongness about it new ways. It is left to souls like me to decide what to do about it; and though I cannot see all the answers, I can guess that adding more wrongness will not help matters.

Ceea ce oamenii de pe Pământ numesc „Rai” și „Iad” sunt, de fapt, modurile în care ei abordează situațiile oriunde s-ar afla, cât și ceea ce manifestă fiecare individ ca circumstanțe ale vieții sale.

Central Bankers are driving us to Hell in a vehicle We are paying the installments on

Can I tell you that in my eyes not even God would be good enough to command you?

[C]oncepts of dying in to a heaven or hell seem a good deal more political than spiritual. (124)

Christians believe that God loves you sooo much... he created hell, just in case you don't love him back.

Clinging to the rags I had left, I gazed out upon the full breadth of the Furnace and shook at what I saw. The world had been wiped clean of all trace of humanity. Sharp sandstone peaks protruded into the gray sky like a humped backbone, spilling into vast seas of sand on either side. Boulders and driftwood, the castaways of some bygone mountain, cast the only disruption upon the land. And I realized—no sun crossed the sky; there was only constant, lingering grayness.

Cheia pentru inexplicabilul soartei noastre este setea de nefericire, adîncă şi tainică şi mai durabilă ca dorinţa zvăpăiată de fericire. De-ar predomina aceasta, cum am lămuri îndepărtarea vertiginoasă de rai şi tragedia ca o condiţie firească? Istoria întreagă e proba limpede că omul nu numai că n-a fugit de chin, dar i-a născocit mreje, pentru a nu scăpa cumva din vraja lui. Dacă n-ar fi iubit durerea, n-ar fi avut nevoie să născocească iadul — utopie a suferinţei. Şi dac-a preferat uneori cu mai multă ardoare raiul, a făcut-o pentru fantasticul lui, pentru garanţia de irealizabil — o utopie estetică. „Evenimentele“ istoriei ne arată însă clar ce a luat el în serios...

Chuck Palahniuk asked which is worse: Hell or nothing. Here is my answer: Of course nothing! Because even in Hell, there is hope!

Come to us, we’re always private at the Private Club,” the broadcast went. “Formerly a Weyland-Yutani mining post in the Scafell Minor System, we’re now a fun place to be. Forget the Company, come here for company like you’ve never had before. Everything you want, everything you need, everything you desire … all the good things they do in hell, without the eternal damnation.

Creepy keeps creeping across the cold cobbles. Watch how he creeps and be sure he hasn’t crept up on you.

Could one that's damned stand in high Heaven, even there He'd feel within himself all Hell and Hell's despair.

Create hell and people will be impatient to get there, just out of curiosity

Curtis Bane screamed and though I came around fast and fired in the same motion, he’d already pulled a heater and begun pumping metal at me. We both missed and I was empty, that drum clicking uselessly. I went straight at him. Happily, he too was out of bullets and I closed the gap and slammed the butt of the rifle into his chest. Should’ve knocked him down, but no. The bastard was squat and powerful as a wild animal, thanks to being a coke fiend, no doubt. He ripped the rifle from my grasp and flung it aside. He locked his fists and swung them up into my chin, and it was like getting clobbered with a hammer, and I sprawled into a row of trash cans. Stars zipped through my vision. A leather cosh dropped from his sleeve into his hand and he knew what to do with it all right. He swung it in a short chopping blow at my face and I got my left hand up and the blow snapped my two smallest fingers, and he swung again and I turned my head just enough that it only squashed my ear and you better believe that hurt, but now I’d drawn the sawback bayonet I kept strapped to my hip, a fourteen-inch grooved steel blade with notched and pitted edges—Jesus-fuck who knew how many Yankee boys the Kraut who’d owned it gashed before I did for him—and stabbed it to the guard into Bane’s groin. Took a couple of seconds for Bane to register it was curtains. His face whitened and his mouth slackened, breath steaming in the chill, his evil soul coming untethered. He had lots of gold fillings. He lurched away and I clutched his sleeve awkwardly with my broken hand and rose, twisting the handle of the blade side to side, turning it like a car crank into his guts and bladder, putting my shoulder and hip into it for leverage. He moaned in panic and dropped the cosh and pried at my wrist, but the strength was draining from him and I slammed him against the wall and worked the handle with murderous joy. The cords of his neck went taut and he looked away, as if embarrassed, eyes milky, a doomed petitioner gaping at Hell in all its fiery majesty. I freed the blade with a cork-like pop and blood spurted down his leg in a nice thick stream and he collapsed, folding into himself like a bug does when it dies.

Cynicism is extremely contagious, and the most pious among us cannot long endure its potency. The gullible should be on their guard, however, since this endearing quality frequently masquerades as wit.

Cos'altro possono togliermi? Dovunque io vada mi porto dietro il mio inferno.

Culture is a fibreglass condom suit - highly restrictive, uncomfortable and itchy as hell.

- Da, e lucru îngrozitor să cazi în mâinile răului reîncarnat. - Atunci, întreabă doctorul Poole, de ce continuați să-L venerați? - De ce arunci mâncare unui tigru care mârăie?Ca să câștigi un moment de respiro. Ca să amâni oroarea inevitabilului, fie și pentru câteva minute. Și pe Pământ e la fel ca-n Iad - dar cel puțin ești tot pe Pământ.

Dante’s step into Hell will never be forgotten by Hell.

Darker the hell, darker the life...darker the death, darker the fear..." the painter's left-hand fingers where drenched in black color, which he kept on scrolling on white paper until he made a... "Raven...darkest like hell and life...raven darkest like fear and death...raven...nevermore

Dear God, I must be dead and in hell since you're here.

David was the sort of man that he would follow into the very fires of Hell. The crazy thing was it almost felt like they were already there.

Death would be an extremely bad thing like most of us paint it, if being dead were painful.