Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground.

All hope abandon, ye who enter here!

…all things created have an order in themselves, and this begets the form that lets the universe resemble God.

Love can move the Sun and the stars.

Your fame is as the grass, whose hue comes and goes, and His might withers it by whose power it sprang from the lap of the earth.

I presumed to fix my look on the eternal light so long that I consumed my sight thereon.

Three things remain with us from paradise: stars, flowers and children.