And when he had put his hand on mine with a cheerful look, wherefrom I took courage, he brought me within to the secret things. Here sighs, laments, and deep wailings were resounding through the starless air; wherefore at first I wept thereat. Strange tongues, horrible utterances, words of woe, accents of anger, voices high and faint, and sounds of hands with them, were making a tumult which whirls always in that air forever dark, like the sand when the whirlwind breathes.

Pride, envy, avarice - these are the sparks have set on fire the hearts of all men.

He who awaits the call, but sees the need, Already sets his spirit to refuse it.

The path to paradise begins in hell.

The truth thy speech doth show, within my heart reproves the swelling pride.

Three things remain with us from paradise: stars, flowers and children.

You shall leave everything you love.