If a thief helps a poor man out of the spoils of his thieving, we must not call that charity.

Not one drop of blood is left inside my veins that does not throb: I recognize signs of the ancient flame.

Be as a tower firmly set; Shakes not its top for any blast that blows.

The path to paradise begins in hell.

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.

Hope not ever to see heaven. I come to lead you to the other shore; into the eternal darkness; into fire and ice.

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