Do ye not comprehend that we are worms born to bring forth the angelic butterfly that flieth unto judgment without screen?
The well heeded well heard.
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.
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.
This sorrow weighs upon the melancholy souls of those who lived without infamy or praise.
In the midway of this our mortal life, I found me in a gloomy wood, astray, Gone from the path direct.
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.
Here pity only lives when it is dead – Virgil.
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.
Hope not ever to see Heaven. I have come to lead you to the other shore; into eternal darkness; into fire and into ice.
Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire.
Knowledge comes Of learning well retain’d, unfruitful else.
Still desiring, we live without hope.
That which had pleased me once, troubled by spirit.
Because your question searches for deep meaning, I shall explain in simple words.
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.
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.
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.
I saw a point that shone with light so keen, the eye that sees it cannot bear its blazing; the star that is for us the smallest one would seem a moon if placed beside this point.
He loves but little who can say and count in words, how much he loves.