Quotes About Paradise

Go to heaven for the climate

Después de todos estos años, veo que estaba equivocado con Eva al principio; es mejor vivir fuera del Jardín con ella que dentro de él sin ella.

Eseldorf was a paradise for us boys. We were not overmuch pestered with schooling. Mainly we were trained to be good Christians; to revere the Virgin, the Church, and the saints above everything. Beyond these matters we were not required to know much; and, in fact, not allowed to. Knowledge was not good for the common people, and could make them discontented with the lot which God had appointed for them, and God would not endure discontentment with His plans.

Eve took the bite. But instead of the promised benefits, she found herself with a mouthful of distasteful consequences—guilt, fear, and alienation. The fellowship she had enjoyed with God and her husband was broken. Paradise had been lost.

paradise cannot be constructed out of concrete.

But if all wishes were fulfilled as soon as they arose, how would men occupy their lives? what would they do with their time? If the world were a paradise of luxury and ease, a land flowing with milk and honey, where every Jack obtained his Jill at once and without any difficulty, men would either die of boredom or hang themselves; or there would be wars, massacres, and murders; so that in the end mankind would inflict more suffering on itself than it has now to accept at the hands of Nature.

The trees were still green, the sky still blue, which counted for something. So they went ahead and plugged their smelly paradise - God's Own Country they called it in their brochures - because they knew, those clever Hotel People, that smelliness, like other peoples' poverty, was merely a matter of getting used to. A question of discipline. Of Rigor and Air-conditioning. Nothing more.

There is a notion gaining credence that the free market breaks down national barriers, and that corporate globalization's ultimate destination is a hippie paradise where the heart is the only passport and we all live together happily inside a John Lennon song (Imagine there's no country...). This is a canard.

Mamachi tried to caution Chacko. He heard her out, but didn't really listen to what she was saying. So despite the early rumblings of discontent on the premises of Paradise Pickles, Chacko, in rehearsal for the Revolucion, continued to play Conrade! Comrade! (116)

this foggy little back lane, with its everyday humdrumness, its vulgarity, its unfortunate but tolerable inequities, its donkeys and its minor cruelties, is like a small corner of Paradise. The shops in the market sell food and flowers and clothes and mobile phones, not grenades and machine guns. Children play at ringing doorbells, not at being suicide bombers. We have our troubles, our terrible moments, yes, but these are only aberrations.

So they went ahead and plugged their smelly paradise— God's Own Country they called it in their brochures—because they knew, those clever Hotel People, that smelliness, like other peoples' poverty, was merely a matter of getting used to. A question of discipline. Of Rigor and Air-conditioning. Nothing more.

You will not enter paradise until you have faith. And you will not complete your faith until you love one another.

For those who love dogs, it would be the worst form of a lie to call any place where dogs were banned "Paradise." Certainly no loving God would separate people from their canine friends for eternity.

Love is the way back into Eden. It is the way back to life.

There is a kind of serenity in love which is almost a paradise.

Paradise is to be the ultimate instrument, fulfilling God's desperate intent that we love each other.

To love and live beloved is the soul's paradise.

..."better to have loved and lost" bullshit. Don't show me paradise and then burn it down.

I'm always in Malibu, and I'm a big fan of surfing and stuff. I love the beach. Someday I will live on the beach.

Vedi laggiù?" Indicò le montagne che incombevano in lontananza. "È quello che sognavo fin da bambina. Io e Charley, lassù: quello è il mio paradiso, Alice. E ho la possibilità di vivere il mio paradiso ogni giorno.

Every saint in heaven is as a flower in that garden of God, and holy love is the fragrance and sweet odor that they all send forth, and with which they fill the bowers of that paradise above. Every soul there, is as a note in some concert of delightful music, that sweetly harmonizes with every other note, and all together blend in the most rapturous strains in praising God and the Lamb forever.

bosh," he finally said. "Ook-la. Palm trees

Cómo diablos construir ese paraíso, si la vileza humana mata en embrión cualquier utopía?

The question is: why can't parking lots be modest paradises?