Here pity only lives when it is dead - Virgil

O you proud Christians, wretched souls and small,/ Who by the dim lights of your twisted minds/ Believe you prosper even as you fall,/ Can you not see that we are worms, each one/ Born to become the angelic butterfly/ That flies defenseless to the Judgement Throne?

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

Nothing which is harmonized by the bond of the Muse can be changed from its own to another language without destroying its sweetness

In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.

Here pity only lives when it is dead - Virgil

The human race finds itself in a better situation when it has the higher level of freedom.