The paradise of the rich is made out of the hell of the poor.
What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.
To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell’s heart, I stab at thee; For hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.
Thus we are brought to the third circle of this hell, which, perhaps, will some day find its Dante.
There is no dignity in wickedness, whether in purple or rags; and hell is a democracy of devils, where all are equals.
There is no devil and no hell. Thy soul will be dead even sooner than thy body; fear, therefore, nothing any more!
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
The road to hell is paved with adverbs.
The hell with luck. I’ll bring the luck with me.
Sartre was right. Hell is other people.
Only the descent into the hell of self-knowledge can pave the way to godliness.
Nothing is so stifling as symmetry. Symmetry is boredom, the quintessence of mourning. Despair yawns. There is something more terrible than a hell of suffering – a hell of boredom.