We have no hope and yet we live in longing.
He is, most of all, l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.
There is a gentle thought that often springs to life in me, because it speaks of you.
He who know most grieves most for wasted time.
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.
Infinite goodness has such wide arms.