But if it's something else, let's say moderately enjoyable, the whole time I'll be thinking, "You know, heaven would be much better if I got to spend all of my time fucking hotties." So it wouldn't really be heaven then, would it?

Completely serious question.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28933962)

http://www.online-literature.com/twain/letters-from-the-earth/3/

"I have told you nothing about man that is not true." You must pardon me if I repeat that remark now and then in these letters; I want you to take seriously the things I am telling you, and I feel that if I were in your place and you in mine, I should need that reminder from time to time, to keep my credulity from flagging.

For there is nothing about man that is not strange to an immortal. He looks at nothing as we look at it, his sense of proportion is quite different from ours, and his sense of values is so widely divergent from ours, that with all our large intellectual powers it is not likely that even the most gifted among us would ever be quite able to understand it.

For instance, take this sample: he has imagined a heaven, and has left entirely out of it the supremest of all his delights, the one ecstasy that stands first and foremost in the heart of every individual of his race -- and of ours -- sexual intercourse!

It is as if a lost and perishing person in a roasting desert should be told by a rescuer he might choose and have all longed-for things but one, and he should elect to leave out water!

***

First of all, I recall to your attention the extraordinary fact with which I began. To wit, that the human being, like the immortals, naturally places sexual intercourse far and away above all other joys -- yet he has left it out of his heaven! The very thought of it excites him; opportunity sets him wild; in this state he will risk life, reputation, everything -- even his queer heaven itself -- to make good that opportunity and ride it to the overwhelming climax. From youth to middle age all men and all women prize copulation above all other pleasures combined, yet it is actually as I have said: it is not in their heaven; prayer takes its place.

They prize it thus highly; yet, like all their so-called "boons," it is a poor thing. At its very best and longest the act is brief beyond imagination -- the imagination of an immortal, I mean. In the matter of repetition the man is limited -- oh, quite beyond immortal conception. We who continue the act and its supremest ecstasies unbroken and without withdrawal for centuries, will never be able to understand or adequately pity the awful poverty of these people in that rich gift which, possessed as we possess it, makes all other possessions trivial and not worth the trouble of invoicing.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28934030)

Twain was a genius. This is creepy as shit.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28934094)

Even an unfulfilled sexual desire is certainly better than no desire at all.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28933999)

*goes ass to mouth on Sheena Shaw*

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28934019)

That is the terrible thing about sin, it feels so good.

Like today, I was making eyes at this dude in the supermarket who was just sooo unnggghh *bites hand*. I silently prayed a Haily Mary and it was nbd afterward, but definitely not easy.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28934129)

Funny that Mormons get ridiculed for claiming the best afterlife option is learning how to be a god and making your own planet to fuck around with. that might be goofy from the perspective of Christian theology but it's still objectively way better at capturing the modern imagination

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28934875)

What Is There To Say | Jack Gilbert

What do they say each new morning

in heaven? They would

weary of one always

singing how green the

green trees are in

Paradise.

Surely it would seem convention

and affectation

to rejoice every time

Helen went by, since

she would have gone

daily by.

What can I say then if each time

your whiteness glimmers

and fashions in that dark?

If each time your voice

opens so near

in that dark

new? What can I say each morning

after that you will

believe? But there is this

stubborn provincial

singing in me

oh each time.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3012834&forum_id=2#28934203)