I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked

The project I'm writing at the moment is all about heaven, so you'd think it'd be lighting my heart and mind. Unfortunately it doesn't always work that way. I was visiting some friends who were up from Tassie a few weeks back. Ruth can smell a good deal at a thousand paces, so they'd secured a room in a fancy hotel overlooking Circular Quay. They took me to the roof to show me the swimming pool. It was a cute little pool, with a spa beside and seats for anyone who wished to while away the day looking out over the bridge, the Opera House and the Quay. I imagined the sort of people who would do this - they'd come home from their productive, stimulating, high status jobs to their aesthetically satisfying penthouse apartments where they'd spend the summer evenings in the company of sophisticated, glowing friends, drinking good wine and jumping in the pool. Actually now I'm starting to really think about the people, I'm not sure I'd enjoy their company; but the idea sprung to my mind in a flash, and I envied them and pitied my lot. To steady myself I said, "Maybe heaven will be like this," to which Ruth very helpfully replied "Well, it certainly won't be any worse."

Heaven. It certainly won't be any worse than the best thing you know.