I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightfoward pathway had been lost. Ah me! How hard a thing is to say, what was this forest savage, rough, and stern, which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more.

The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and likewise pain.

From a small spark, Great flame has risen.

A man's renown is like the hue of grass, Which comes and goes.

The mouse had fallen in with evil cats.

The infernal storm, eternal in its rage, sweeps and drives the spirits with its blast; it whirls them, lashing them with punishment. When they are swept back past their place of judgment then come the shrieks, laments, and anguished cries; there they blaspheme God's almighty power.

How come I never meet any nice girls?