O conscience, upright and stainless, how bitter a sting to thee is a little fault!
I wept not, so to stone within I grew.
Honor the greatest poet.
Let us not speak of them; but look, and pass on.
Abandon all hope, you who enter here!
There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, made a tumult which is whirling through that air forever dark, and sand eddies in a whirlwind.
This miserable state is borne by the wretched souls of those who lived without disgrace and without praise.
There is no greater sorrow than to recall a happy time in the midst of wretchedness.
Memorable Quotations: Italian Writers