Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people.

Wisdom is earned, not given.

And I was told about this torture, that it was the Hell of carnal sins when reasons give way to desire.

They have no hope of death, and their darkened life is so mean that they are envious of every other fate. Earth allows no mention of them to exist: mercy and justice reject them: let us not talk of them, but look and pass.

The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain.

And we came forth to contemplate the stars.

A fair request should be followed by the deed in silence.