I wept not — so to stone I grew within.

They find seven cornices on which penitent and redeemed sinners are cleansed by the grace of God. On the first cornice, that of Pride, the proud are learning humility: Our Father, dwelling in the Heavens, nowise As circumscribed, but as the things above, Thy first effects, are dearer in Thine eyes, Hallowed Thy name be and the Power thereof, By every creature, as right meet it is We praise the tender effluence of Thy love. Let come to us, let come Thy kingdom's peace.

Curb your talent lest it speed where virtue does not guide.

The secret of getting things done is to act!

At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain.

The heavens call to you, and circle about you, displaying to you their eternal splendors, and your eye gazes only to earth.

Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I shall endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.