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As One Who Sees In Dreams And Wakes To Find The Emotional Impression Of His Vision Still Powerful While Its Parts Fade From His Mind - Just Such Am I, Having Lost Nearly All The Vision Itself, While In My Heart I Feel The Sweetness Of It Yet Distill And Fall.

-Dante Alighieri

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As One Who Sees

Dante Alighieri

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As One Who Sees In Dreams And Wakes To Find The Emotional Impression Of His Vision Still Powerful While Its Parts Fade From His Mind - Just Such Am I, Having Lost Nearly All The Vision Itself, While In My Heart I Feel The Sweetness Of It Yet Distill And Fall.

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There Are Souls Beneath That Water. Fixed In Slimethey Speak Their Piece, End It, And Start Again:'sullen Were We In The Air Made Sweet By The Sun;in The Glory Of His Shining Our Hearts Poureda Bitter Smoke. Sullen Were We Begun;sullen We Lie Forever In This Ditch.'this Litany They Gargle In Their Throatsas If They Sand, But Lacked The Words And Pitch.

"the Love Of God, Unutterable And Perfect, Flows Into A Pure Soul The Way Light Rushes Into A Transparent Object. The More Love That It Finds, The More It Gives Itself: So That, As We Grow Clear And Open, The More Complete The Joy Of Heaven Is. And The More Souls Who Resonate Together, The Greater The Intensity Of Their Love, And, Mirror Like, Each Soul Reflects The Other.

The Mouse Had Fallen In With Evil Cats.

When I Had Journeyed Half Of Our Life's Way, I Found Myself Within A Shadowed Forest, For I Had Lost The Path That Does Not Stray.

If Your World Isn't Right, The Cause Is In You.

The Infernal Storm, Eternal In Its Rage, Sweeps And Drives The Spirits With Its Blast; It Whirls Them, Lashing Them With Punishment. When They Are Swept Back Past Their Place Of Judgment Then Come The Shrieks, Laments, And Anguished Cries; There They Blaspheme God's Almighty Power.

The Splendors That Belong Unto The Fame Of Earth Are But A Wind, That In The Same Direction Lasts Not Long.

He Who Sees A Need And Waits To Be Asked For Help Is As Unkind As If He Had Refused It.

That Which Had Pleased Me Once, Troubled By Spirit.

Lying In A Featherbed Will Bring You No Fame, Nor Staying Beneath The Quilt, And He Who Uses Up His Life Without Achieving Fame Leaves No More Vestige Of Himself On Earth Than Smoke In The Air Or Foam Upon The Water.

Through Me You Go Into A City Of Weeping; Through Me You Go Into Eternal Pain; Through Me You Go Amongst The Lost People

Here We Find The Moat Of Thieves. And Just As A Lizard, With A Quick, Slick Slither, Flicks Across The Highway From Hedge To Hedge, Fleeter Than A Flash, In The Battering Dog-day Weather, A Fiery Little Monster, Livid, In A Rage, Black As Any Peppercorn, Came And Made A Dart At The Guts Of The Others, And Leaping To Engage One Of The Pair, It Pierced Him At The Part Through Which We First Draw Food; Then Loosed Its Grip And Fell Before Him, Outstretched And Apart.

As, Pricked Out With Less And Greater Lights, Between The Poles Of The Universe, The Milky Way So Gleameth White As To Set Very Sages Questioning.

Blessed Are The Peacemakers, For They Have Freed Themselves From Sinful Wrath.

Many Have Justice In Their Hearts, But Slowly It Is Let Fly, For It Comes Not Without Council To The Bow.

Oh Blind! Oh Ignorant, Self-seeking Cupidity Which Spurs Us So In The Short Mortal Life And Steeps Us So Through All Eternity!

Here Pity Only Lives When It Is Dead - Virgil

To Course Across More Kindly Waters Now My Talent's Little Vessel Lifts Her Sails, Leaving Behind Herself A Sea So Cruel; And What I Sing Will Be That Second Kingdom, In Which The Human Soul Is Cleansed Of Sin, Becoming Worthy Of Ascent To Heaven.

Like The Lark That Soars In The Air, First Singing, Then Silent, Content With The Last Sweetness That Satiates It, Such Seemed To Me That Image, The Imprint Of The Eternal Pleasure.

Nothing Which Is Harmonized By The Bond Of The Muse Can Be Changed From Its Own To Another Language Without Destroying Its Sweetness

As Phantoms Frighten Beasts When Shadows Fall.

In The Midway Of This Our Mortal Life, I Found Me In A Gloomy Wood, Astray, Gone From The Path Direct.

My Course Is Set For An Uncharted Sea.

Midway Upon The Journey Of Our Life

From A Little Spark May Burst A Flame.

So That The Universe Felt Love, By Which, As Somebelieve, The World Has Many Times Been Turned To Chaos. And At That Moment This Ancient Rock, Here And Elsewhere, Fell Broken Into Pieces.

Love, That All Gentle Hearts So Quickly Know.

Astrology, The Noblest Of Sciences.

Of My Sowing Such Straw I Reap. O Human Folk, Why Set The Heart There Where Exclusion Of Partnership Is Necessary

Without Hope We Live In Desire.

The More Souls Who Resonate Together, The Greater The Intensity Of Their Love... And, Mirror-like... Each Soul Reflects The Other.

I Found Myself Within A Forest Dark.

Will Cannot Be Quenched Against Its Will.

Infinite Goodness Has Such Wide Arms.

Imagination, That Dost So Abstract Us That We Are Not Aware, Not Even When A Thousand Trumpets Sound About Our Ears!

When We Encountered A Band Of Souls Coming Along The Barrier, And Each Was Gazing At Us In The Evening People Gaze At One Another Under The New Moon

But The Stars That Marked Our Starting Fall Away. We Must Go Deeper Into Greater Pain, For It Is Not Permitted That We Stay.

I Care Not Where My Body May Take Me As Long As My Soul Is Embarked On A Meaningful Journey.

Because Your Question Searches For Deep Meaning, I Shall Explain In Simple Words

I Am Searching For That Which Every Man Seeks-peace And Rest.

All Of Nature Is God's Art.

Stand Firm As The Tower That Never Shakes Its Top Whatever Wind May Blow.

O You Proud Christians, Wretched Souls And Small,/ Who By The Dim Lights Of Your Twisted Minds/ Believe You Prosper Even As You Fall,/ Can You Not See That We Are Worms, Each One/ Born To Become The Angelic Butterfly/ That Flies Defenseless To The Judgement Throne?

Seldom Indeed Does Human Virtue Rise From Trunk To Branch.

If You Give People Light, They Will Find Their Own Way.

Unity In Wills Cannot Be Unless There Is One Will Dominating And Ruling All The Rest To Oneness... Wills Of Mortals Have Need Of A Directive Principle... Therefore For The Well-being Of The World, There Should Be A Monarchy.

Love, Who Insists That Love Shall Mutual Be, Link'd Me To Him With Charm Strong As Our Fates; Even Now It Leaves Me Not, As Thou Dost See.

Beauty Awakens The Soul To Act.

Deed Done Is Well Begun.

I Saw Within Its Depth How It Conceives All Things In A Single Volume Bound By Love Of Which The Universe Is The Scattered Leaves.

Love And The Gentle Heart Are But The Same Thing.

You Shall Find Out How Salt Is The Taste Of Another Man's Bread, And How Hard Is The Way Up And Down Another Man's Stairs.

I Made My Own House Be My Gallows.

And As He, Who With Laboring Breath Has Escaped From The Deep To The Shore, Turns To The Perilous Waters And Gazes.

I Am The Way Into The City Of Woe. I Am The Way To A Forsaken People. I Am The Way Into Eternal Sorrow. Sacred Justice Moved My Architect. I Was Raised Here By Divine Omnipotence, Primordial Love And Ultimate Intellect. Only Those Elements Time Cannot Wear Were Made Before Me, And Beyond Time I Stand. Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.

The Whole Universe Is But The Footprint Of The Divine Goodness.

If Thou Follow Thy Star, Thou Canst Not Fail Of Glorious Heaven.

Thou Shall Know By Experience How Salt The Savor Is Of Others' Bread, And How Sad A Path It Is To Climb And Descend Another's Stairs.

Where The Way Is Hardest, There Go Thou; Follow Your Own Path And Let People Talk.

I Presumed To Fix My Look On The Eternal Light So Long That I Consumed My Sight Thereon.

If You're Asking For A Date, Forget It. 'cause I Make It A Point Not To Go Out With Women Who Shoot Me In The Head!

You Shall Leave Everything You Love.

In His Will, Our Peace.

There, Pride, Avarice, And Envy Are The Tongues Men Know And Heed, A Babel Of Depsair

Love Hath So Long Possessed Me For His Own And Made His Lordship So Familiar.

The More A Thing Is Perfect, The More It Feels Pleasure And Likewise Pain.

These Have Not The Hope To Die.

There Is No Greater Sorrow Than To Recall Happiness In Times Of Misery.

They Yearn For What They Fear For.

This Mountain Is So Formed That It Is Always Wearisome When One Begins The Ascent, But Becomes Easier The Higher One Climbs.

We Are But A Day In This World, And In That Day The Fashion Is Changed A Thousand Times: All Seek Liberty, Yet All Deprive Themselves Of It.

The Human Race Finds Itself In A Better Situation When It Has The Higher Level Of Freedom.

In That Part Of The Book Of My Memory Before Which Little Can Be Read, There Is A Heading, Which Says: ‘incipit Vita Nova: Here Begins The New Life’.

Now You Know How Much My Love For You Burns Deep In Me When I Forget About Our Emptiness, And Deal With Shadows As With Solid Things.

My Love For You

Eternal Love Made Me.

Into The Eternal Darkness, Into Fire And Into Ice.

It Was The Hour Of Morning, When The Sun Mounts With Those Stars That Shone With It When God's Own Love First Set In Motion Those Fair Things

The Mind Which Is Created Quick To Love, Is Responsive To Everything That Is Pleasing, Soon As By Pleasure It Is Awakened Into Activity. Your Apprehensive Faculty Draws An Impression From A Real Object, And Unfolds It Within You, So That It Makes The Mind Turn Thereto. And If, Being Turned, It Inclines Towards It, That Inclination Is Love; That Is Nature, Which Through Pleasure Is Bound Anew Within You.

Consider The Sea's Listless Chime: Time's Self It Is, Made Audible.

In That Part Of The Book Of My Memory Before The Which Is Little That Can Be Read, There Is A Rubric, Saying, Incipit Vita Nova. Under Such Rubric I Find Written Many Things; And Among Them The Words Which I Purpose To Copy Into This Little Book; If Not All Of Them, At The Least Their Substance.

If The Present World Go Astray, The Cause Is In You, In You It Is To Be Sought.

At Grief So Deep The Tongue Must Wag In Vain; The Language Of Our Sense And Memory Lacks The Vocabulary Of Such Pain.

The Path To Paradise Begins In Hell.

The Loser, When A Game Of Dice Is Done, Remains Behind Reviewing Every Roll Sadly, And Sadly Wiser, And Alone.

Perceive Ye Not That We Are Worms, Designed To Form The Angelic Butterfly, That Goes To Judgment, Leaving All Defence Behind? Why Doth Your Mind Take Such Exalted Pose, Since Ye, Disabled, Are As Insects, Mean As Worm Which Never Transformation Knows?

A Rapid Bolt Will Rend The Clouds Apart, And Every Single White Be Seared By Wounds. I Tell You This. I Want It All To Hurt.

If I Thought I Was Replying To Someone Who Would Every Return To The World, This Flame Would Cease It's Flickering. But Since No One Has Returned From These Depths Alive, If What I've Heard Is True, I Will Answer You Without Fear Of Infamy.

Ah! Justice Of Our God! Who Else Could Stow Such Travails New And Pains As Met My Glance!

All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here!

From There We Came Outside And Saw The Stars

Consider Your Origins: You Were Not Made To Live As Brutes, But To Follow Virtue And Knowledge.

In Each Fire There Is A Spirit; Each One Is Wrapped In What Is Burning Him.

O Foolish Anxiety Of Wretched Man, How Inconclusive Are The Arguments Which Make Thee Beat Thy Wings Below!

My Soul Tasted That Heavenly Food, Which Gives New Appetite While It Satiates.

The Man Who Lies Asleep Will Never Waken Fame, And His Desire And All His Life Drift Past Him Like A Dream, And The Traces Of His Memory Fade From Time Like Smoke In Air, Or Ripples On A Stream.

Do Not Desert Me When I Need You Most. And If We Can't Go On Together, Let's Retrace Our Steps As Quickly As We Can.

... Nessun Maggior Dolore Che Ricordarsi Del Tempo Felice Nella Miseria. (there Is No Greater Pain Than To Remember A Happy Time When One Is In Misery.)

Small Projects Need Much More Help Than Great.

O Mortal Men, Be Wary Of How Ye Judge.

As Little Flowers, Which The Chill Of Night Has Bent And Huddled, When The White Sun Strikes, Grow Straight And Open Fully On Their Stems, So Did I, Too, With My Exhausted Force.

Go Forth And Preach Impostures To The World, But Give Them Truth To Build On.

Compassion Is Not A Passion; Rather A Noble Disposition Of The Soul, Made Ready To Receive Love, Mercy, And Other Charitable Passions.

In Judgement Be Ye Not Too Confident, Even As A Man Who Will Appraise His Corn When Standing In A Field, Ere It Is Ripe.

Be Like A Solid Tower Whose Brave Height Remains Unmoved By All The Winds That Blow; The Man Who Lets His Thoughts Be Turned Aside By One Thing Or Another, Will Lose Sight Of His True Goal, His Mind Sapped Of Its Strength.

And We Came Forth To Contemplate The Stars.

There Is In Hell A Place Stone-built Throughout, Called Malebolge, Of An Iron Hue, Like To The Wall That Circles It About.

…all Things Created Have An Order In Themselves, And This Begets The Form That Lets The Universe Resemble God.

Curb Your Talent Lest It Speed Where Virtue Does Not Guide.

Love With Delight Discourses In My Mindupon My Lady's Admirable Gifts...beyond The Range Of Human Intellect.

Midway In Our Life's Journey, I Went Astray From The Straight Road And Woke To Find Myself Alone In A Dark Wood.

You Can Stay And Die Or You Can Walk Your Ugly Ass Back Through That Gate. It's Your Call, Pal.

No Sorrow Is Deeper Than The Remembrance Of Happiness When In Misery.

The Wisest Are The Most Annoyed At The Loss Of Time.

It Is No Learning To Understand What You Do Not Retain.

It Is Necessity And Not Pleasure That Compels Us.

I Love To Doubt As Well As Know.

For Where The Instrument Of Intelligence Is Added To Brute Power And Evil Will, Mankind Is Powerless In Its Own Defense.

Three Things Remain With Us From Paradise: Stars, Flowers And Children.

...ma Gia Volgena Il Mio Disio E'l Velle Si Come Rota Ch'igualmente E Mossa, L'amor Che Move: I Sole E L'altre Stelle ...as A Wheel Turns Smoothtly, Free From Jars, My Will And My Desire Were Turned By Love, The Love That Moves The Sun And The Other Stars.

Not One Drop Of Blood Is Left Inside My Veins That Does Not Throb: I Recognize Signs Of The Ancient Flame.

These Dwell Among The Blackest Souls,loaded Down Deep By Sins Of Differing Types.if You Sink Far Enough,you'll See Them All.

And When He Had Put His Hand On Mine With A Cheerful Look, Wherefrom I Took Courage, He Brought Me Within To The Secret Things. Here Sighs, Laments, And Deep Wailings Were Resounding Through The Starless Air; Wherefore At First I Wept Thereat. Strange Tongues, Horrible Utterances, Words Of Woe, Accents Of Anger, Voices High And Faint, And Sounds Of Hands With Them, Were Making A Tumult Which Whirls Always In That Air Forever Dark, Like The Sand When The Whirlwind Breathes.

O Power Of Fantasy That Steals Our Minds From Things Outside, To Leave Us Unaware, Although A Thousand Trumpets May Blow Loud--what Stirs You If The Senses Show You Nothing? Light Stirs You, Formed In Heaven, By Itself, Or By His Will Who Sends It Down To Us.

Still Desiring, We Live Without Hope.

In The Middle Of The Journey Of Our Life I Came To Myself Within A Dark Wood Where The Straight Way Was Lost.

...everything That Is, Desires To Be. As We Act, We Unfold Our Being. Enjoyment Naturally Follows, For A Thing Desired Always Brings Delight.

Sta Come Torre Ferma, Che Non Crolla Giammai La Cima Per Soffiar De' Venti. Be Steadfast As A Tower That Doth Not Bend Its Stately Summit To The Tempest's Shock.

Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here. [omnes Relinquite Spes, O Vos Intrantes]

This Miserable Way Is Taken By The Sorry Souls Of Those Who Lived Without Disgrace And Without Praise. They Now Commingle With The Coward Angels, The Company Of Those Who Were Not Rebels Nor Faithful To Their God, But Stood Apart. The Heavens, That Their Beauty Not Be Lessened, Have Cast Them Out, Nor Will Deep Hell Receive Them - Even The Wicked Cannot Glory In Them.

The More Perfect A Thing Is, The More Susceptible To Good And Bad Treatment It Is.

The Glory Of Him Who Moves Everything Penetrates Through The Universe, And Is Resplendent In One Part More And In Another Less.

The Purpose Of The Whole [the Comedy] And Of This Portion [the Paradiso] Is To Remove Those Who Are Living In This Life From The State Of Wretchedness, And To Lead Them To The State Of Blessedness.

A Mighty Flame Followeth A Tiny Spark.

And Here Dante Describes An Evidently Spherical World... "the Lamp Of The World [the Sun] Rises To Mortals Through Different Passages; But Through That Which Joins Four Circles With Three Crosses [the Position Of The Rising Sun At The Vernal Equinox] It Issues With A Better Course And Conjoined With Better Stars, And Tempers And Stamps The Wax Of The World More After Its Own Fashion. Although Such An Outlet Had Made Morning There And Evening Here, And All The Hemisphere There Was Bright, And The Other Dark..."

Follow Your Path, And Let The People Talk.

The Well Heeded Well Heard.

It May Be That A More Subtle Person Would Find For This Thing A Reason Of Greater Subtlety: But Such Is The Reason That I Find, And That Liketh Me Best.

Those Ancients Who In Poetry Presented The Golden Age, Who Sang Its Happy State, Perhaps, In Their Parnassus, Dreamt This Place. Here, Mankind's Root Was Innocent; And Here Were Every Fruit And Never-ending Spring; These Streams--the Nectar Of Which Poets Sing.

There Is A Place In Hell Called The Malebolge.

But Already My Desire And My Will Were Being Turned Like A Wheel, All At One Speed, By The Love Which Moves The Sun And The Other Stars

The Human Race Is In The Best Condition When It Has The Greatest Degree Of Liberty.

Thus You May Understand That Love Alone Is The True Seed Of Every Merit In You, And Of All Acts For Which You Must Atone.

Love Can Move The Sun And The Stars.

O You, Who In Some Pretty Boat, Eager To Listen, Have Been Following Behind My Ship, That Singing Sails Along Turn Back To Look Again Upon Your Own Shores; Tempt Not The Deep, Lest Unawares, In Losing Me, You Yourselves Might Be Lost. The Sea I Sail Has Never Yet Been Passed; Minerva Breathes, And Pilots Me Apollo, And Muses Nine Point Out To Me The Bears. You Other Few Who Have Neck Uplifted Betimes To The Bread Of Angels Upon Which One Lives And Does Not Grow Sated, Well May You Launch Your Vessel Upon The Deep Sea.

I Am Made Of God, Through His Grace. Such That Your Misery Touches Me Not, Nor Does Flame Of That Burning Assail Me.

All Your Renown Is Like The Summer Flower That Blooms And Dies; Because The Sunny Glow Which Brings It Forth, Soon Slays With Parching Power.

Nature Is The Art Of God.

If A Thief Helps A Poor Man Out Of The Spoils Of His Thieving, We Must Not Call That Charity.

The Hottest Places In Hell Are Reserved For Those Who, In Time Of Great Moral Crisis, Maintain Their Neutrality. [this Miserable Mode Maintain The Melancholy Souls Of Those Who Lived Withouten Infamy Or Praise.]

Reason Flies When Following The Senses, On Clipped Wings.

I Felt For The Tormented Whirlwinds Damned For Their Carnal Sins Committed When They Let Their Passions Rule Their Reason.

In That Book Which Is My Memory, On The First Page Of The Chapter That Is The Day When I First Met You, Appear The Words, ‘here Begins A New Life’.

But If, As Morning Rises, Dreams Are True.

Behold A God More Powerful Than I Who Comes To Rule Over Me.

Through Me The Way Into The Suffering City, Through Me The Way To The Eternal Pain, Through Me The Way That Runs Among The Lost. Justice Urged On My High Artificer; My Maker Was Divine Authority, The Highest Wisdom, And The Primal Love. Before Me Nothing But Eternal Things Were Made, And I Endure Eternally. Abandon Every Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.

So May Heaven's Grace Clear Away The Foam From The Conscience, That The River Of Thy Thoughts May Roll Limpid Thenceforth.

The Three Divine Are In This Hierarchy, First The Dominions, And The Virtues Next; And The Third Order Is That Of The Powers. The In The Dances Twain Penultimate The Principalities And Archangels Wheel; The Last Is Wholly Of Angelic Sports. These Orders Upward All Of Them Are Gazing, And Downward So Prevail, That Unto God They All Attracted Are And All Attract.

I Did Not Die, And Yet I Lost Life’s Breath

The Greatest Gift That God In His Bounty Made In Creation, And The Most Conformable To His Goodness, And That Which He Prizes The Most, Was The Freedom Of Will, With Which The Creatures With Intelligence, They All And They Alone, Were And Are Endowed.

Because There Is No Man Who Can Be True And Just Judge Of Himself, So Much Will Self-love Deceive Him.

Be As A Tower Firmly Set; Shakes Not Its Top For Any Blast That Blows.

I, Answering In The End, Began: 'alas, How Many Yearning Thoughts, What Great Desire, Have Lead Them Through Such Sorrow To Their Fate?

Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More To Life.

Abandon Every Hope, You Who Enter.

One Ought To Be Afraid Of Nothing Other Then Things Possessed Of Power To Do Us Harm, But Things Innoucuous Need Not Be Feared.

From A Small Spark, Great Flame Has Risen.

Consider That This Day Ne'er Dawns Again.

There's Not The Least Thing Can Be Said Or Done, But People Will Talk And Find Fault.

Worldly Fame Is But A Breath Of Wind That Blows Now This Way, And Now That, And Changes Name As It Changes Direction.

Honor Is The Greatest Poet.

Conscience, That Boon Companion Who Sets A Man Free Under The Strong Breastplate Of Innocence, That Bids Him On And Fear Not.

There Sighs, Lamentations And Loud Wailings Resounded Through The Starless Air, So That At First It Made Me Weep; Strange Tongues, Horrible Language, Words Of Pain, Tones Of Anger, Voices Loud And Hoarse, And With These The Sound Of Hands, Made A Tumult Which Is Whirling Through That Air Forever Dark, And Sand Eddies In A Whirlwind.

Midway Along The Journey Of Our Life I Woke To Find Myself In A Dark Wood, For I Had Wandered Off From The Straight Path. How Hard It Is To Tell What It Was Like, This Wood Of Wilderness, Savage And Stubborn (the Thought Of It Brings Back All My Old Fears), A Bitter Place! Death Could Scarce Be Bitterer. But If I Would Show The Good That Came Of It I Must Talk About Things Other Than The Good.

Open Your Mind To What I Shall Disclose, And Hold It Fast Within You; He Who Hears, But Does Not Hold What He Has Heard, Learns Nothing. Beatrice - Canto V 40-42

He Who Know Most Grieves Most For Wasted Time.

The Customs And Fashions Of Men Change Like Leaves On The Bough, Some Of Which Go And Others Come.

If You Follow Your Natural Bent;you Will Definitely Go To Heaven

That Infinite And Indescribable Good Which Is There Above Races As Swiftly To Love As A Ray Of Light To A Bright Body.it Gives Of Itself According To The Ardor It Finds, So That As Charity Spreads Farther The Eternal Good Increases Upon It,and The More Souls There Are Who Love, Up There, The More There Are To Love Well, And The More Love They Reflect To Each Other, As In A Mirror.

Love Is The Source Of Every Virtue In You And Of Every Deed Which Deserves Punishment.

Before Me Things Created Were None, Save Things Eternal, And Eternal I Endure. All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here.

A Man's Renown Is Like The Hue Of Grass, Which Comes And Goes.

We Have No Hope And Yet We Live In Longing.

Your Fame Is As The Grass, Whose Hue Comes And Goes, And His Might Withers It By Whose Power It Sprang From The Lap Of The Earth.

That With Him Were, What Time The Love Divine

At This High Moment, Ability Failed My Capacity To Describe.

There Is No Greater Pain Than To Remember, In Our Present Grief, Past Happiness.

Through Me You Pass Into The City Of Woe: Through Me You Pass Into Eternal Pain: Through Me Among The People Lost For Aye. Justice The Founder Of My Fabric Moved: To Rear Me Was The Task Of Power Divine, Supremest Wisdom, And Primeval Love. Before Me Things Create Were None, Save Things Eternal, And Eternal I Shall Endure. All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here.

Come, Follow Me, And Leave The World To Its Babblings.

I Wept Not — So To Stone I Grew Within.

He Is Not Always At Ease Who Laughs.

The Only Fit Reply To A Fit Request Is Silence And The Fact.

L'amor Che Move Il Sole E L'altre Stelle (the Love That Moves The Sun And The Other Stars)

This Sorrow Weighs Upon The Melancholy Souls Of Those Who Lived Without Infamy Or Praise.

The Secret Of Getting Things Done Is To Act!

A Backward Glance Can Often Lift The Heart.

As The Geometer Intently Seeks To Square The Circle, But He Cannot Reach, Through Thought On Thought, The Principle He Needs, So I Searched That Strange Sight.

O Human Race, Born To Fly Upward, Wherefore At A Little Wind Dost Thou So Fall?

The Experience Of This Sweet Life.

Three Sparks - Pride, Envy, And Avarice - Have Been Kindled In All Hearts.

The Man Who Lies Asleep Will Never Waken Fame.

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