The Path To Paradise Begins In Hell.

The Heavens Call To You, And Circle About You, Displaying To You Their Eternal Splendors, And Your Eye Gazes Only To Earth.

It Is No Learning To Understand What You Do Not Retain.

As Little Flowers, Which The Chill Of Night Has Bent And Huddled, When The White Sun Strikes, Grow Straight And Open Fully On Their Stems, So Did I, Too, With My Exhausted Force.

Do Ye Not Comprehend That We Are Worms Born To Bring Forth The Angelic Butterfly That Flieth Unto Judgment Without Screen?

Sta Come Torre Ferma, Che Non Crolla Giammai La Cima Per Soffiar De' Venti. Be Steadfast As A Tower That Doth Not Bend Its Stately Summit To The Tempest's Shock.