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In these different worlds his (the disbelievers) clothes are fire, eve — Báb

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"In these different worlds his (the disbelievers) clothes are fire, even if they are of silk, and the place of his sojourn is fire, even if he is on the highest throne on the Earth, and his food is likewise fire. The clothes of others (of the believers) are made of what is created in Paradise, their seat is the highest seat of Paradise, and their food is the most succulent fruits of Paradise, even if they are clothed only with cotton, if they associate only on the bare soil, if they feed only on leaves of lettuce"
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Báb
Báb
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The Báb was an Iranian religious leader who founded Bábism, and is also one of the central figures of the Baháʼí Faith. The Báb gradually and progressively revealed his claim in his extensive writings to be a Manifestation of God, of a status as great as Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad, receiving revelations as profound as the Torah, Gospel, and Quran. This new revelation, he claimed, would release the

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"Were I to remove the veil, all would recognize Me as their Best Beloved, and no one would deny Me. Let not this assertion astound Your Majesty; inasmuch as a true believer in the unity of God who keepeth his eyes directed towards Him alone, will regard aught else but Him as utter nothingness. I swear by God! I seek no earthly goods from thee, be it as much as a mustard seed. Indeed, to possess anything of this world or of the next would, in My estimation, be tantamount to open blasphemy. For it ill beseemeth the believer in the unity of God to turn his gaze to aught else, much less to hold it in his possession. I know of a certainty that since I have God, the Ever-Living, the Adored One, I am the possessor of all things, visible and invisible..."
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"Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flower Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! God! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!"
Samuel Taylor ColeridgeSamuel Taylor Coleridge