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

Deed done is well begun.

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

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.

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.

There is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness.

Here let dead poetry rise once more to life.