To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.
Hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple dumpling.
Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale... from hell's heart I stab at thee.
There is no dignity in wickedness, whether in purple or rags; and hell is a democracy of devils, where all are equals.
In one word, Queequeg, said I, rather digressively; hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple-dumpling; and since then perpetuated through the hereditary dyspepsias nurtured by Ramadans.
Indolence is heaven 's ally here, And energy the child of hell : The Good Man pouring from his pitcher clear But brims the poisoned well.
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