If I could make up yonder, one hundred billion miles high, a square block, and that's perfect love. Each step this way, it narrows until we get down to where we are now. It would be just merely a shadow of corruption. That little something that we can sense and feel that there's something somewhere, we don't know what it is.

Oh, my precious friend, my beloved, my darlings of the Gospel, my begotten children unto God, listen to me, your pastor. You-- I wish there was some way I could explain it to you. There's no words. I couldn't find it. It's not found anywhere. But just beyond this last breath is the most glorious thing that you ever... There is no way to explain it. There's no way; I just can't do it. But whatever you do, friends, lay aside everything else till you get perfect love. Get to a spot that you can love everybody, every enemy, everything else. That one visit there to me has made me a different man. I can never, never, never be the same Brother Branham that I was.

-- Brother Branham
May 15, 1960 am