A lawyer’s dream of heaven: every man reclaimed his property at the resurrection, and each tried to recover it from all his forefathers.
Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground.
Heaven must be an awfully dull place if the poor in spirit live there.
Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.
Not all of those who cry ‘The poor, the poor!’ will enter the kingdom of heaven.
Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for?
I was working as a secretary in Manchester and thought I would always do that. Then I got this letter offering me a two-year fellowship where I could write; they would pay me a salary and give me a flat to live in. It was heaven.
I would have the Constitution torn in shreds and scattered to the four winds of heaven. Let us destroy the Constitution and build on its ruins the temple of liberty. I have brothers in slavery. I have seen chains placed on their limbs and beheld them captive.
This wretched brain gave way, and I became a wreck at random driven, without one glimpse of reason or heaven.