Richard Bach Quotes

This temporal fire is but a painted fire in respect of that penetrating and real fire in hell.

There is no hell, no inferno except the frenzy of living.

Hell is not in torture; Hell is in an empty heart.

What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.

Hell is very likely to be modernization infinitely extended.

I don't believe in hell. I believe in unemployment, but not hell.

Represent to yourself a dark city all burning and stinking with fire and brimstone. The damned are in the depth of hell within this woful city, where they suffer unspeakable torments in all their senses and members. Consider above all the eternity of their pains, which above all things makes hell intolerable.

If you look at any religious description of hell, it is the same as human society, the way we dream. Hell is a place of suffering, a place of fear, a place of war and violence, a place of judgment and no justice, a place of punishment that never ends.

My childhood was a period of waiting for the moment when I could send everyone and everything connected with it to hell.

What is hell?...The suffering that comes from the consciousness that one is no longer able to love.

That's my punishment in hell, shoveling horseshit.

Compassion is one of the highest states of consciousness that you can choose to assist you in times of enormous pain.

I could believe only in the hell I was living in, a hell on earth, and it was man-made, not God-made.

I don't know how to answer the problem of deep pain without a deep hope in eternity.

Consider, children ... the pain of touching the tip of your finger to your mother's stove, even for a fraction of a second. That is an experience which most of you have suffered. Now try to imagine that pain, not simply on a fingertip but spread over the whole surface of your body, and not for a mere second, but everlastingly. That, children, is hellfire.

And when he had put his hand on mine with a cheerful look, wherefrom I took courage, he brought me within to the secret things. Here sighs, laments, and deep wailings were resounding through the starless air; wherefore at first I wept thereat. Strange tongues, horrible utterances, words of woe, accents of anger, voices high and faint, and sounds of hands with them, were making a tumult which whirls always in that air forever dark, like the sand when the whirlwind breathes.

Hell is no other but a soundlesse pit, Where no one beame of comfort peeps in it.

You heard of hell, well I was sent from it.

I have known heaven, and now I am in hell, and there are mimes.

We probably in hell already, our dumb asses not knowing.

In hell there's a big hotel where the bar just closed and the windows never opened. No phone so you can't call home, and the TV works, but the clicker is broken.

I need the pain of loneliness to make my imagination work.

The true penance comes when God takes away the soul's health and strength for doing penance. Even though I have mentioned elsewhere the great pain this lack causes, the pain is much more intense here. All these things must come to the soul from its roots, from where it is planted.

Heaven but the vision of fulfilled desire, and Hell the shadow from a soul on fire.

There was a time when I had the blues - I mean I really had it bad. I couldn't pay my light bill and I couldn't pay my rent and I really had the blues. But today I can pay my rent and I can pay the light bill and I still got the blues. So I must been born with 'em... That's my religion - the blues is my religion.