When I had journeyed half of our life's way, I found myself within a shadowed forest, for I had lost the path that does not stray.

As one who sees in dreams and wakes to find the emotional impression of his vision still powerful while its parts fade from his mind - Just such am I, having lost nearly all the vision itself, while in my heart I feel the sweetness of it yet distill and fall.

O human race, born to fly upward, wherefore at a little wind dost thou so fall?

In that part of the book of my memory before the which is little that can be read, there is a rubric, saying, Incipit Vita Nova. Under such rubric I find written many things; and among them the words which I purpose to copy into this little book; if not all of them, at the least their substance.

The man who lies asleep will never waken fame.

How come I never meet any nice girls?

Deed done is well begun.