You can make hell out of heaven and heaven out of hell. It's all in the mind.

Not to know me argues yourselves unknown.

They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms: Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide; They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.

Or if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.

For such kind of borrowing as this, if it be not bettered by the borrowers, among good authors is accounted Plagiarè.

That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew, Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.

Tears such as angels weep.