Consider your origins: you were not made to live as brutes, but to follow virtue and knowledge.

I felt for the tormented whirlwinds Damned for their carnal sins Committed when they let their passions rule their reason.

In judgement be ye not too confident, Even as a man who will appraise his corn When standing in a field, ere it is ripe.

Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure.

Still desiring, we live without hope.

As, pricked out with less and greater lights, between the poles of the universe, the Milky Way so gleameth white as to set very sages questioning.

I saw a point that shone with light so keen, the eye that sees it cannot bear its blazing; the star that is for us the smallest one would seem a moon if placed beside this point.