Novelists do not write as birds sing, by the push of nature. It is par >>
Among the virtues and vices that make up the British character, we hav >>
The writer probably knows what he meant when he wrote a book, but he s >>
The vague and tenuous hope that God is too kind to punish the ungodly >>
The gates of Hell are open night and day; smooth the descent, and easy >>
And what have you laymen made of hell? A kind of penal servitude for e >>
To be in a world which is a hell, to be of that world and neither to believe in or guess at anything but that world is not merely hell but the only possible damnation: the act of a man damning himself. It may be -- I hope it is -- redemption to guess and perhaps perceive that the universe, the hell which we see for all its beauty, vastness, majesty, is only part of a whole which is quite unimaginable.