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There, pride, avarice, and envy are the tongues men know and heed, a Babel of despair.
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Hope not ever to see heaven. I come to lead you to the other shore; into the eternal darkness; into fire and ice.
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Oh blind! Oh ignorant, self-seeking cupidity which spurs us so in the short mortal life and steeps us so through all eternity!
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At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain.
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In His will, our peace.
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In judgement be ye not too confident, Even as a man who will appraise his corn When standing in a field, ere it is ripe.
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Follow your path, and let the people talk.
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Imagination, that dost so abstract us That we are not aware, not even when A thousand trumpets sound about our ears!
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A man's renown is like the hue of grass, Which comes and goes.
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Curb your talent lest it speed where virtue does not guide.
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The mouse had fallen in with evil cats.
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Of my sowing such straw I reap. O human folk, why set the heart there where exclusion of partnership is necessary.
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Pure essence, and pure matter, and the two joined into one were shot forth without flaw, like three bright arrows from a three-string bow.
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And here Dante describes an evidently spherical world... "The lamp of the world the sun rises to mortals through different passages; but through that which joins four circles with three crosses the position of the rising sun at the vernal equinox it issues with a better course and conjoined with better stars, and tempers and stamps the wax of the world more after its own fashion. Although such an outlet had made morning there and evening here, and all the hemisphere there was bright, and the other dark..."
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Not one drop of blood is left inside my veins that does not throb: I recognize signs of the ancient flame.
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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’.
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If you follow your natural bent;you will definitely go to heaven.
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Now you know how much my love for you burns deep in me when I forget about our emptiness, and deal with shadows as with solid things.
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Love and the gentle heart are but the same thing.
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Conscience, that boon companion who sets a man free under the strong breastplate of innocence, that bids him on and fear not.
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I saw a point that shone with light so keen, the eye that sees it cannot bear its blazing; the star that is for us the smallest one would seem a moon if placed beside this point.
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I am searching for that which every man seeks-peace and rest.
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When I had journeyed half of our life's way, I found myself within a shadowed forest, for I had lost the path that does not stray.
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O you, who in some pretty boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along Turn back to look again upon your own shores; Tempt not the deep, lest unawares, In losing me, you yourselves might be lost. The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears. You other few who have neck uplifted Betimes to the bread of angels upon Which one lives and does not grow sated, Well may you launch your vessel Upon the deep sea.