“Do you believe in hell?” Stephen said abruptly. “No, not really. Should I?” Stephen shrugged. “I don’t believe in demons and pitchforks. But I think, if you had to define hell, you could take a good man and deny him the rites he believed in, and condemn his soul to a slow process of madness and vengeance and corruption until it was nothing but a mass of rage and hate and seething evil that his true self would have loathed. I think that would be hell.”
Rage and hate and anger
