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

That with him were, what time the Love Divine

The more perfect a thing is, the more susceptible to good and bad treatment it is.

A rapid bolt will rend the clouds apart, and every single White be seared by wounds. I tell you this. I want it all to hurt.

All your renown is like the summer flower that blooms and dies; because the sunny glow which brings it forth, soon slays with parching power.

e quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle" ("and thence we came forth to see again the stars")

This mountain is so formed that it is always wearisome when one begins the ascent, but becomes easier the higher one climbs.