Passport To Heaven Quotes

You and I are part of the colony of heaven. Right now, we may reside here on earth, but our passport indicates that our citizenship is in heaven. We are on the earth, but not of the earth.

Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here.

Man is not in the world to set it right but to see it rightly, and right seeing is the passport from illusion to the heaven of accomplishment. If you want to change the world, or to be an influence for such a change, you must begin within yourself by changing the way you see the world. Get back to the principle—a whole Universe, a whole man.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN we pray? Have you ever really thought about that? When you bow your knee and fold your hands or walk the floor with your eyes closed, opening your heart to heaven, what exactly happens? There are very few references in the Bible about the proper procedures for how to pray, and I believe that is because prayer is more about the heart’s attitude and focus than it is about whether we stand, sit, close our eyes, or any other practice we normally associate with prayer. The truth be told, if we are supposed to pray without ceasing, we should also be able to work on an engine, write an e-mail, give a presentation, change a diaper, write a report, have coffee with a friend, encourage a coworker, pay our bills, and any of the other myriad of things we do in a day while still keeping the communication lines open with heaven. I believe that every day we need focused times of prayer, but at all other times we should be in an attitude of prayer with our spiritual ears open to the thoughts of heaven. There should be seasons of intense, concentrated prayer and fasting with specified hours set aside for intercession, and there should be times when prayer is simply a regular part of our daily routine. A great interest has arisen in the last decade around 24-7 prayer rooms where different church members pray in hour-long blocks so that unbroken intercession is raised up for their city and our world. Other churches dedicate evenings solely to prayer and worship and gather believers to lift their voices in song and petition to the Lord. While all of these are wonderful things to do, at its essence prayer is simply conversation with God. Because we have changed passports from the kingdom of this world to the kingdom of heaven, we are members of God’s family and therefore have the right to talk with our Father anytime we want because He is not limited by time and space. Yet while it isn’t difficult to speak to Him, even as a babe in faith, it does take some maturity to discern His voice from the voice of our own thoughts, dreams, and desires. This is why, when I speak about prayer, I get more questions about hearing the voice of God than anything else.

Think of this small book as a passport, a document that details the dogs and people who have traveled far and wide, and somehow, miraculously, found their way back to where they belong - to dog heaven, book heaven, reader heaven. Home.

No, Sir. There is no qualification for government but virtue and wisdom, actual or presumptive. Wherever they are actually found, they have, in whatever state, condition, profession, or trade, the passport of Heaven to human place and honor. Woe to the country which would madly and impiously reject the service of the talents and virtues, civil, military, or religious, that are given to grace and to serve it; and would condemn to obscurity everything formed to diffuse lustre and glory around a state! Woe to that country, too, that, passing into the opposite extreme, considers a low education, a mean, contracted view of things, a sordid, mercenary occupation, as a preferable title to command! Everything ought to be open,—but not indifferently to every man. No rotation, no appointment by lot, no mode of election operating in the spirit of sortition or rotation, can be generally good in a government conversant in extensive objects; because they have no tendency, direct or indirect, to select the man with a view to the duty, or to accommodate the one to the other. I do not hesitate to say that the road to eminence and power, from obscure condition, ought not to be made too easy, nor a thing too much of course. If rare merit be the rarest of all rare things, it ought to pass through some sort of probation.

After I returned from that morning, our telephone rang incessantly with requests for interviews and photos. By midafternoon I was exhausted. At four o’clock I was reaching to disconnect the telephone when I answered one last call. Thank heavens I did! I heard, “Mrs. Robertson? This is Ian Hamilton from the Lord Chamberlain’s office.” I held my breath and prayed, “Please let this be the palace.” He continued: “We would like to invite you, your husband, and your son to attend the funeral of the Princess of Wales on Saturday in London.” I was speechless. I could feel my heart thumping. I never thought to ask him how our name had been selected. Later, in London, I learned that the Spencer family had given instructions to review Diana’s personal records, including her Christmas-card list, with the help of her closest aides. “Yes, of course, we absolutely want to attend,” I answered without hesitating. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I’ll have to make travel plans on very short notice, so may I call you back to confirm? How late can I reach you?” He replied, “Anytime. We’re working twenty-four hours a day. But I need your reply within an hour.” I jotted down his telephone and fax numbers and set about making travel arrangements. My husband had just walked in the door, so we were able to discuss who would travel and how. Both children’s passports had expired and could not be renewed in less than a day from the suburbs where we live. Caroline, our daughter, was starting at a new school the very next day. Pat felt he needed to stay home with her. “Besides,” he said, “I cried at the wedding. I’d never make it through the funeral.” Though I dreaded the prospect of coping with the heartbreak of the funeral on my own, I felt I had to be there at the end, no matter what. We had been with Diana at the very beginning of the courtship. We had attended her wedding with tremendous joy. We had kept in touch ever since. I had to say good-bye to her in person. I said to Pat, “We were there for the ‘wedding of the century.’ This will be ‘the funeral of the century.’ Yes, I have to go.” Then we just looked at each other. We couldn’t find any words to express the sorrow we both felt.

I was seemingly still lowest of the low. Going back to the airport analogy, I was apparently still stuck in the European departure lounge of Terminal 5 with my luggage on its way to Los Angeles; this with my empty wallet in a waste bin and my passport, cash and credit cards concealed in a pickpocket’s pantyhose. Theologically speaking, as far as the stairway to Heaven was concerned, I hadn’t even made the first step yet.

...we are headed towards the heavens and shall soon find ourselves at the gates. If we do not have our “passports” with us, we will not be allowed in

You are not forced to turn this world into a hell, thinking that you will receive, or gain the passport of entering heaven.

There are many reasons why girls should not travel alone, and I won’t list them, because none of them are original reasons. Besides, there are more reasons why girls should. I have the utmost respect for girls who travel alone, because it’s hard work sometimes. But girls, we just want adventures. We want international best friends and hold-your-breath vistas out of crappy hostel windows. We want to discover moving works of art, sometimes in museums and sometimes in side-street graffiti. We want to hear soul-restoring jam sessions at beach bonfires and to watch celestial dawns spill over villages that haven’t changed since the Middle Ages. We want to fall in love with boys with say-that-again accents. We want sore feet from stay-up-all-night dance parties at just-one-more-drink bars. We want to be on our own even as we sketch and photograph the Piazza San Marco covered in pigeons and beautiful Italian lovers intertwined so that we’ll never forget what it feels like to be twenty-three and absolutely purposeless and single, but in love with every city we visit next. We want to be struck dumb by the baritone echoes of church bells in Vatican City and the rich, heaven-bound calls to prayer in Istanbul and to know that no matter what, there just has to be some greater power or holy magic responsible for all this bursting, delirious, overwhelming beauty in the great, wide, sprawling world. I tucked my passport into my bag. Girls, we don’t just want to have fun; we want a whole lot more out of life than that.

Age isn’t quite an accurate measurement for adulthood. It’s what you experience that makes you older, not the barcode in your passport,” he says. “A few weeks ago you cared whether you were mad or not, whether you were doing the right thing or not. Hell in heavens, a few weeks ago you still cared about your past and held it like a chip on your shoulder, not knowing that the past has passed. It doesn’t matter. We all messed up in the past, or there would’ve been no point in the future.” ​I

Age isn’t quite an accurate measurement for adulthood. It’s what you experience that makes you older, not the barcode in your passport,” he says. “A few weeks ago you cared whether you were mad or not, whether you were doing the right thing or not. Hell in heavens, a few weeks ago you still cared about your past and held it like a chip on your shoulder, not knowing that the past has passed. It doesn’t matter. We all messed up in the past, or there would’ve been no point in the future.

This is what I could see for the first time in my life with astounding and undeniable clarity: The express purpose of each component of the law - priesthood, priests, high priests, offerings, temples, prophets - was to point to Jesus, the good thing to come. Each element was a physical representation, a shadow of sorts, of the true spiritual reality that was revealed in Christ 2,000 years ago. Miraculously, Jesus was both the high priest and the offering, humbly submitting His own life as a ransom for the sins of the world. Through His perfect and finished work of atonement, Jesus fulfilled the law on our behalf by nailing our debts to the cross. In doing so, He instituted a new and better covenant - forgiveness through faith in His name. No longer would mankind be bound by the old system of works-based righteousness, but reconciled to God through the ultimate and final sacrifice of His Son. The age of human mediators ended with Christ’s death, and Jesus alone is now our only advocate with the Father. Therefore, I didn’t need this Church’s priesthood, high priests, temples, or prophets. God’s Word was shouting from its pages: Jesus is all you need! He is sufficient!

God’s love for us is Christ; Christ’s love for us is the cross; our love for God is loving others; and loving others is to point them to God’s love in Christ.

A London newspaper put the following question in the newspaper for a number of weeks: “What is the definition of money?” They offered a very handsome prize of money to the person who submitted the best definition of money. I was so taken by what I read that I wrote it down in the margin of my Bible. Here is the winning answer: “Money is an article which may be used as a universal passport everywhere except heaven and a universal provider for everything except happiness.” In other words, money can get you anywhere except heaven and buy you everything except happiness.

world” and is named by it—is crucified with Christ. It is put to death and buried with Christ. It goes down, into death, under the waters of baptism, from which we rise to a new life and a new citizenship. Baptism is thus an intensely political act. It is the spiritual equivalent of burning the flag of a nation along with our passport and identity papers and then embracing a new citizenship, under a new authority, and with an entirely new set of rights and responsibilities. We are transferred from the dominion of darkness into the kingdom of light (Col. 1:12–13). Henceforth, our citizenship is in heaven (Phil. 3:20) and our names are written in the Lamb’s book of life (Rev. 3:5).

The poor are our passport to God’s kingdom. The poor are not objects to be helped but guides to be followed. The rich must walk the path of salvation in the footsteps of the poor, who will be first in the Kingdom of Heaven.

The job of adults who care about reading is to move heaven and earth to put that book into a child’s hands.   Nancie Atwell9

All occultism, by whatever name it is called, however imperfect in deductions, learns at last to beware of the occultist who breaks the moral law, or who, whether wilfully or carelessly, through prejudice or through crafty desire to advance his own selfish interests, closes his eyes to the truth. In other words, clear thinking and correct living are the only passport to trustworthiness in an occultist.

sat motionless while gathering his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. “Elder Wilder, when we are given instruction from our leaders, we must obey. Do you not sustain the Prophet and the Twelve Apostles as the mouthpieces of God on the earth, the ones authorized to speak God’s will?