Astrology, the noblest of sciences.
There is a place in Hell called the Malebolge.
No man may be so cursed by priest or pope but what the Eternal Love may still return while any thread of green lives on in hope.
You can stay and die or you can walk your ugly ass back through that gate. It's your call, pal.
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. [Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes]
Pure essence, and pure matter, and the two joined into one were shot forth without flaw, like three bright arrows from a three-string bow.