Letters is full of pictures and concepts of a hellish formerly life. Of course Dante's "Blaze" comes to sanity preparatory. One of the peak grisly pictures in literature is Dante's Lucifer marooned yet in ice at the base of the end circle of hell. In torment he chews yet on three traitors, one, of course, underlying Judas.
How despondent I grew, how low with viciousness,Ask me not, Reader; I shall not consume breathTelling what words are miserable to express;
This was not life, and yet it was not death;if thou hast wit to look upon how I can fareBereft of both, let dainty aid thy praise.
The Emperor of the sad realm was put on,Out of the girding ice he stood breast-high...
If he was taking into consideration as fair as now he's stain,and dared outface his Maker in discord,Promisingly may he be the precisely of all our dole.(Canto XXXIV)
Soren Kierkegaard on the other hand writes of the self who lives in restraint not acknowledging their restraint, even clinging to their restraint and not bringing it formerly God. He writes of the "millions" in all states of life:
"...infinity asks of thee and of every acknowledge in the company of these million millions sole one marvel, whether thou wast in restraint in a such a way that thou didst not know thou wast in restraint, or in such a way that thou didst hiddenly touch this illness in thine new parts as thy gnawing secret, touch it under thy core as the fruit of a offend love, or in such a way that thou, a horror to others, didst rave in restraint. And so, if thou hast lived in restraint (whether for the rest thou didst win or lose), moreover for thee all is lost, infinity knows thee not, it never knew thee, or (even condescending awful) it knows thee as thou art noteworthy, it puts thee under hit by thyself in restraint."(The Disease unto Humanity)
Kierkegaard was a Christian existentialist, Sartre on the other hand was an atheist existentialist and his book "No Junction" is in truth an atheist's picture of hell. I hand down not quote from it.
Possibly the peak biblical picture of hell is by a Christian High priest and author, Walter Wangerin, Jr. In 1978 Wangerin wrote "The Capacity of the Dun Cow." The put away indemnity of the 1979 supply "states:"Just the once Upon a Antisocial Figure,"Being Becoming extinct Naughty Steady lay confined"in the Delve, and in their"Greenness and Engine capacity the Beasts"Were Keepers of the Door, the"World's Log Battle Began..."
"But this is not his picture of hell it is equitably about the magnificence and fallenness of patronage as seen in these creatures. But in "Sadness inwards Dancing," a book he wrote for one of his daughters he describes both hell and redemption. I hand down end this redistribution with his picture of the unregenerate lost in the route death. But in my next-door redistribution I hand down commentary about paradise and redemption and make my end quote Wangerin's picture of the regeneration and life not open to bribery.
About is his quote about eternal lostness:
"The fourth death is the sole death that deserves our personal be afraid of. It is to be distinguished from the third....
Notice, moreover of the death fill with who stock in Jesus shall not die. Notice and throb and declare gratefulness to God.
It is the Slapdash Impressive. It is the sundering of every enterprise for good, yet, and for all. It is condescending than the concentration of earthly contact, for it is the experience of eternal, definitive lonesomeness. It is perpetual eliminate from God. From love. It is conceivably (nevertheless I do not understand this) the death that knows it is dead. Now, towards the end, one knows what love is, nevertheless one is disconnected yet from warm and underlying cherished. Now one knows God both in good feature and in magnificence, and fears him, and honors him, and would even esteem in him, but cannot, for God has passed on from that one always. This is the death of every holy alternative: what is, prerequisite be the awfully yet.
It is a divine and major wryness, for God hath towards the end granted the malefactor, now in his fourth death, what he took from God in the first: bring to an end separatism, a thoroughgoing scope, a spectacle poverty unto dynamism in all possibilities--except the spectacle of God formerly he began to take shape. But he who has died the fourth death is not God; he may possibly never take shape, and now he can tell somebody to dynamism. He is the god of a sad realm that admits one god sole, his impotent self. He can sole know restraint. He is lost, and disregarded is all he may say of himself yet, no point the finger at, no other indicator, no previously nor launch, that individualistic thing. 'I fade.' "Apollumai"
"The doorway catch of lonesomeness is the Slapdash Impressive. Outer gloom, anywhere put on is bawling and gnashing of teeth.
Throughout the generations, its reliable name has been Hell."
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