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The Notorious B.I.G.

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"Im hard, Jehovah said I'm barred from the pearly gates f**k em, I didn't want to go to heaven anyway.But my mama got me on my knees with my hands gripped talkin bout some praise the Lord shit."

 
The Notorious B.I.G.

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Well, I'm not talkin' bout locking down forever, baby.
That would be too demanding.
I'm just talkin' bout two lonely people
Who might reach a little understanding.
I'm not talkin' bout knocking out heaven
with whether we're wrong or we're right.
I'm not talkin' bout hooking up and hanging out,
I'm just talkin' bout tonight.

 
Toby Keith
 

My first near-death experience was an accident, a botched anesthesia during a triple bypass. I had listened to several people on TV talk shows who had gone down the blue tunnel to the Pearly Gates, and even beyond the Pearly Gates, or so they said, and then come back to life again. But I certainly wouldn't have set out on such a risky expedition on purpose, without first having survived one ...
To go through the Pearly Gates, no matter how tempting the interviewee on the other side, as I myself discovered the hard way, is to run the risk that crotchety Saint Peter, depending on his mood, may never let you out again. Think of how heartbroken your friends and relatives would be if, by going through the Pearly Gates to talk to Napoleon, say, you in effect committed suicide.

 
Kurt Vonnegut
 

Warren Buffett, story from Benjamin Graham: A story that was passed down from Ben Graham illustrates the lemminglike behavior of the crowd: "Let me tell you the story of the oil prospector who met St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. When told his occupation, St. Peter said, “Oh, I’m really sorry. You seem to meet all the tests to get into heaven. But we’ve got a terrible problem. See that pen over there? That’s where we keep the oil prospectors waiting to get into heaven. And it’s filled—we haven’t got room for even one more.” The oil prospector thought for a minute and said, “Would you mind if I just said four words to those folks?” “I can’t see any harm in that,” said St. Pete. So the old-timer cupped his hands and yelled out, “Oil discovered in hell!” Immediately, the oil prospectors wrenched the lock off the door of the pen and out they flew, flapping their wings as hard as they could for the lower regions. “You know, that’s a pretty good trick,” St. Pete said. “Move in. The place is yours. You’ve got plenty of room.” The old fellow scratched his head and said, “No. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go along with the rest of ’em. There may be some truth to that rumor after all."

 
Benjamin Graham
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