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“Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed In one self place, for where we are is hell, And where hell is must we ever be.”
Christopher Marlowe“Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed In one self place, for where we are is hell, And where hell is must we ever be.”
Christopher Marlowe, Dr. Faustus“Many people don't fear a hell after this life and that's because hell is on this earth, in this life. In this life there are many forms of hell that people walk through, sometimes for a day, sometimes for years, sometimes it doesn't end. The kind of hell that doesn't burn your skin; but burns your soul. The kind of hell that people can't see; but the flames lap at your spirit. Heaven is a place on earth, too! It's where you feel freedom, where you're not afraid. No more chains. And you hear your soul laughing.”
C. JoyBell C.“Perhaps you are experiencing 'hell on earth' right now, but you and I are not hopeless. We are not in a desperate state. You don't have to fear any future hell as well. Jesus has the keys already. He has the power over death and the grave. He is alive forevermore! Look to that. Rest on that always.”
Tim Liwanag, Why Jesus Came To Hell“I do not know if hell is hot or cold, or what sort of place hell may be, but this I surely know, that if there is any hell at all it will be badly lit. And it will taste like a train.”
H.G. Wells, The World Of William Clissold Vol. 2“At the beginning Earth was a hell; then it became a heaven! Hell is the road leading to heaven! Chestnut tastes good after roasted! When the sand lives through hell, it becomes a beautiful glass!”
Mehmet Murat ildan“Jesus did not use hell to try and compel "heathens" and "pagans" to believe in God, so they wouldn't burn when they die. He talked about hell to very religious people to warn them about the consequences of straying from their God-given calling and identity to show the world God's love.”
Rob Bell, Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived“Here, her hand in mine was the one reality that severed us from the cold click-clack of Hell. I rubbed her hand and she sighed; wasn’t that meaning? Wasn’t that something we could cling to? I could be with this other. I could form no other relation, but maybe her hand in mine was enough, both sufficient and necessary. In Hell there was no sense of place, because all places were the same. Uniform monotony. A place without place. A place without context. But, here, now, I could rub her hand and she would sigh. She was a difference. Perhaps each person was the only difference in all these halls of unchanging ranks of books, kiosks, clocks, and carpet, and that, and that, at least, we had to hold to.”
Steven L. Peck, A Short Stay in Hell