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.

You can stay and die or you can walk your ugly ass back through that gate. It's your call, pal.

Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire.

All hope abandon, ye who enter here!

If you give people light, they will find their own way.

The customs and fashions of men change like leaves on the bough, some of which go and others come.

The heavens call to you, and circle about you, displaying to you their eternal splendors, and your eye gazes only to earth.