... Nessun maggior dolore Che ricordarsi del tempo felice Nella miseria. (There is no greater pain than to remember a happy time when one is in misery.)

Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure.

In that part of the book of my memory before which little can be read, there is a heading, which says: ‘Incipit vita nova: Here begins the new life’.

Love and the gentle heart are but the same thing.

A mighty flame followeth a tiny spark.

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

He listens well who takes notes.