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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Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people.

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There is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness.

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Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire.

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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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Be like a solid tower whose brave height remains unmoved by all the winds that blow; the man who lets his thoughts be turned aside by one thing or another, will lose sight of his true goal, his mind sapped of its strength.

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No sorrow is deeper than the remembrance of happiness when in misery.

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A fight every now and again does make life more interesting. Don’t ya think?

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I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightfoward pathway had been lost. Ah me! How hard a thing is to say, what was this forest savage, rough, and stern, which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more.

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Justice divine has weighed: the doom is clear. All hope renounce, ye lost, who enter here.

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