There are no short cuts to Heaven, only the ordinary way of ordinary things.
Heaven is a place where God will personally wipe away our tears.
It says right here you've got to be saved to go to heaven. But the way I see it, you've only got to be yourself to go to hell.
The world that was not mine yesterday now lies spread out at my feet, a splendor. I seem, in the middle of the night, to have returned to the world of apples, the orchards of Heaven. Perhaps I should take my problems to a shrink, or perhaps I should enjoy the apples that I have, streaked with color like the evening sky.
The superior man is quiet and calm, waiting for the appointments of heaven, while the mean man walks in dangerous paths, looking for lucky occurrences.
Don't look up to heaven, for what will you see in the sky, except stars, luminous but cold, wholly insensitive to pity?
For love is heaven and heaven is love.
Progress toward a more abundant material life does not come like manna from heaven. . . . My message certainly is not one of complacency. In this I agree with the doomsayers: our world needs the best efforts of all humanity to improve our lot.
Heaven, on occasion, half opens its arms to us; and that is the great moment.
Heaven grants the human being who has learned to live alone a deep measure of such rewards that verily would one hesitate to sacrifice such proved satisfactions, such rare unending possibilities of contentment for anything less than certainty more certain still.
He's a gift from heaven, he is truly a gift from heaven. Whatever he touches turns to gold.
The mocker will not have the last laugh. You see, dancing on the grave of an extinguished Christianity is farcical at best. Because the grave is empty. And the one who knows the way out of the grave sits in the heavens and laughs.
Heaven is going to be like this life, only better. It will be like this life with all its joys and beauties and pleasures, but without the drawbacks - with all the assets but none of the liabilities.
What seems to us but dim funeral tapers may be heaven's distant lamps.
Fools make researches and wise men exploit them - that is our earthly way of dealing with the question, and we thank Heaven for an assumed abundance of financially impotent and sufficiently ingenious fools.
He that loves the world, how active is he! He will break his peace and sleep for it. He that loves honour, what hazards will he run! He will swim to the throne in blood. . . . Love heaven, and you cannot miss it; love breaks through all opposition-it takes heaven by storm.
I am. . . a mushroom; On whom the dew of heaven drops now and then.
Did you know? Did the cross cast a shadow on your cradle? Did you shudder each time your hammer struck a nail? How much heaven and how much earth were in this baby at his birth? Did you know, or did you wonder?
Equal partnerships are not made in heaven-they are made on earth, one choice at a time, one conversation at a time, one threshold crossing at a time.
To the astrologer, or at least to what I call the analytical astrologer, the natal chart virtually represents a living map to the kingdom of heaven which lies within.