I just want to say three magical words to you, “Go to hell.”
A man is born alone and dies alone; And he experiences the good and bad consequences of his karma alone; And he goes alone to hell or the supreme abode.
Sin makes its own hell, and goodness its own heaven.
Karma and Hell are the coward’s revenge.
When I die, I hope to go to Heaven, whatever the Hell that is.
In Holland and Belgium, and afterwards in England, my happiest moments were in the country. I’ve always had a passion for the outdoors, for trees, for birds and flowers.
There is some wisdom in taking a gloomy view, in looking upon the world as a kind of Hell, and in confining one’s efforts to securing a little room that shall not be exposed to the fire.
For the world is Hell, and men are on the one hand the tormented souls and on the other the devils in it.
For where did Dante get the material for his Hell, if not from this actual world of ours?
For my part, I wish all guns with their belongings and everything could be sent to hell, which is the proper place for their exhibition and use.
Hell isn’t merely paved with good intentions; it’s walled and roofed with them. Yes, and furnished too.
Maybe this world is another planet’s hell.
By the skillful and sustained use of propaganda, one can make a people see even heaven as hell or an extremely wretched life as paradise.
Through clever and constant application of propaganda, people can be made to see paradise as hell, and also the other way round, to consider the most wretched sort of life as paradise.
When you’re going through hell – keep going.
