There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery.

There is a place in Hell called the Malebolge.

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.

No sorrow is deeper than the remembrance of happiness when in misery.

Seldom indeed does human virtue rise From trunk to branch.

Thus you may understand that love alone is the true seed of every merit in you, and of all acts for which you must atone.

The experience of this sweet life.