They Yearn For What They Fear For.

Nothing Which Is Harmonized By The Bond Of The Muse Can Be Changed From Its Own To Another Language Without Destroying Its Sweetness

Midway Along The Journey Of Our Life I Woke To Find Myself In A Dark Wood, For I Had Wandered Off From The Straight Path. How Hard It Is To Tell What It Was Like, This Wood Of Wilderness, Savage And Stubborn (the Thought Of It Brings Back All My Old Fears), A Bitter Place! Death Could Scarce Be Bitterer. But If I Would Show The Good That Came Of It I Must Talk About Things Other Than The Good.

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.

As Phantoms Frighten Beasts When Shadows Fall.

As One Who Sees In Dreams And Wakes To Find The Emotional Impression Of His Vision Still Powerful While Its Parts Fade From His Mind - Just Such Am I, Having Lost Nearly All The Vision Itself, While In My Heart I Feel The Sweetness Of It Yet Distill And Fall.