I Saw Within Its Depth How It

Art, As Far As It Is Able, Follows Nature, As A Pupil Imitates His Master; Thus Your Art Must Be, As It Were, God's Grandchild.

We Are But A Day In This World, And In That Day The Fashion Is Changed A Thousand Times: All Seek Liberty, Yet All Deprive Themselves Of It.

No One Thinks Of How Much Blood It Costs.

This Miserable Way Is Taken By The Sorry Souls Of Those Who Lived Without Disgrace And Without Praise. They Now Commingle With The Coward Angels, The Company Of Those Who Were Not Rebels Nor Faithful To Their God, But Stood Apart. The Heavens, That Their Beauty Not Be Lessened, Have Cast Them Out, Nor Will Deep Hell Receive Them - Even The Wicked Cannot Glory In Them.

Through Me The Way Into The Suffering City, Through Me The Way To The Eternal Pain, Through Me The Way That Runs Among The Lost. Justice Urged On My High Artificer; My Maker Was Divine Authority, The Highest Wisdom, And The Primal Love. Before Me Nothing But Eternal Things Were Made, And I Endure Eternally. Abandon Every Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.