Dante Purgatorio Quotes

All hope abandon, ye who enter here.

The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain.

L'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.

The devil is not as black as he is painted.

Consider your origin. You were not formed to live like brutes but to follow virtue and knowledge.

O human race, born to fly upward, wherefore at a little wind dost thou so fall?

Into the eternal darkness, into fire and into ice.

There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery

The man who lies asleep will never waken fame, and his desire and all his life drift past him like a dream, and the traces of his memory fade from time like smoke in air, or ripples on a stream.

Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost.

Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I shall endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.

I did not die, and yet I lost life’s breath

For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble.

In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost. Ah, how hard a thing it is to tell what a wild, and rough, and stubborn wood this was, which in my thought renews the fear!

Thus you may understand that love alone is the true seed of every merit in you, and of all acts for which you must atone.

Segui il tuo corso et lascia dir les genti (Follow your road and let the people say)

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.

Justice does not descend from its own pinnacle.

This mountain is so formed that it is always wearisome when one begins the ascent, but becomes easier the higher one climbs.

Oh blind, oh ignorant, self-seeking cupidity which spurs as so in the short mortal life and steeps as through all eternity.

As the geometer intently seeks to square the circle, but he cannot reach, through thought on thought, the principle he needs, so I searched that strange sight.

Haste denies all acts their dignity.

Perceive ye not that we are worms, designed To form the angelic butterfly, that goes To judgment, leaving all defence behind? Why doth your mind take such exalted pose, Since ye, disabled, are as insects, mean As worm which never transformation knows?

He who best discerns the worth of time is most distressed whenever time is lost.

And I was told about this torture, that it was the Hell of carnal sins when reasons give way to desire.

As once I loved you in my mortal flesh, without it now I love you still.

And as he, who with laboring breath has escaped from the deep to the shore, turns to the perilous waters and gazes.

That with him were, what time the Love Divine

how short a time the fire of love endures in woman if frequent sight and touch do not rekindle it.

Madness it is to hope that human minds can ever understand the Infinite that comprehends Three Persons in One Being. Be satisfied with quia unexplained, O Human race! If you knew everything, no need for Mary to have borne a son.

My son, Here may indeed be torment, but not death.

There is no greater sorrow than to recall our time of joy in wretchedness.

To course across more kindly waters now my talent's little vessel lifts her sails, leaving behind herself a sea so cruel; and what I sing will be that second kingdom, in which the human soul is cleansed of sin, becoming worthy of ascent to Heaven.

When any of our faculties retains a strong impression of delight or pain, the soul will wholly concentrate on that, neglecting any other power it has; and thus, when something seen or heard secures the soul in stringent grip, time moves and yet we do not notice it.

Soft as the early morning breeze of May, which heralds dawn, rich with the grass and flowers, spreading in waves their breathing fragrances, I felt a breeze strike soft upon my brow: I felt a wing caress it, I am sure, I sensed the sweetness of ambrosia.

High justice would in no way be debased if ardent love should cancel instantly the debts these penitents must satisfy.

We climbed, he first and I behind, until though a small round opening ahead of us, I saw the lovely things the heavens hold, and we came out to see once more the stars.

That precious fruit which all men eagerly go searching for on many different boughs will give,today, peace to your hungry soul.

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say

Dianzi, ne l’alba che procede al giorno, quando l’anima tua dentro dormia

Mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde

…I am left with less than one drop of my blood that does not tremble. I recognize the the signs of the old flame.

That infinite and indescribable good which is there above races as swiftly to love as a ray of light to a bright body. It gives of itself according to the ardor it finds, so that as charity spreads farther the eternal good increases upon it, and the more souls there are who love, up there, the more there are to love well, and the more love they reflect to each other, as in a mirror.

Neither Creator nor creature ever, Son, " he began, "was destitute of love Natural or spiritual; and thou knowest it.

Hell exists from within.

My son, you've seen the temporary fire and the eternal fire; you have reached the place past which my powers cannot see. I've brought you here through intellect and art; from now on, let your pleasure be your guide; you're past the steep and past the narrow paths. Look at the sun that shines upon your brow; look at the grasses, flowers, and the shrubs born here, spontaneously, of the earth. Among them, you can rest or walk until the coming of the glad and lovely eyes-- those eyes that weeping, sent me to your side. Await no further word or sign from me: your will is free, erect, and whole-- to act against that will would be to err: therefore I crown and miter you over yourself

Io ritornai da la santissima onda rifatto sì come piante novelle rinnovellate di novella fronda, puro e disposto a salire alle stelle.

O Virgins, sacrosanct, if I have ever, for your sake, suffered vigils,cold,, and hunger, great need makes me entreat my recompense.

Mă-ntorsei, deci, de la pârâul sfânt ca nou, asemeni plantei tinerele când nouă crește-n noul său vestmânt, curat și gata să mă urc la stele.

beheld a power whose head was crowned with signs of victory.

You did as who who, walking by night, Carries the light behind him, where it does him no good, But is of advantage to those who come after him.

Et la faccia del sol noscere ombrata....

So what brings you to this killing pickle?

If you want it your own way, God will let you have it. Hell is the enjoyment of your own way forever.

We all so willingly record our gains, until the hour that leads us into loss. Then every single thought is tears and sadness.

It is, of course, open to anyone to say that the whole idea is morbid and exaggerated--open even to those who think nothing of queuing for twenty-four hours in acute discomfort to see the first night of a musical comedy, which lasts three hours at most, which they are not sure of liking when they get there, and which they could see any other night with no trouble at all.

Thus it was up to God, to Him alone in His own ways - by one or both, I say - to give man back his whole life and perfection. But since a deed done is more prized the more it manifests within itself the mark of the loving heart and goodness of the doer, the Everlasting Love, whose seal is plain on all the wax of the world was pleased to move in all His ways to raise you up again. There was not, nor will be, from the first day to the last night, an act so glorious and so magnificent, on either way. For God, in giving Himself that man might be able to raise himself, gave even more than if he had forgiven him in mercy. All other means would have been short, I say, of perfect justice, but that God's own Son humbled Himself to take on mortal clay. -Paradiso, Canto VII

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.” ― Dante Alighieri

Dolce color d’oriental zaffiro, che s’accoglieva nel sereno aspetto del mezzo, puro infino al primo giro, a li occhi miei ricominciò diletto, tosto ch’io usci’ fuor de l’aura morta che m’avea contristati li occhi e ‘l petto.

The writer, having lost his way in a gloomy forest, and being hindered by certain wild beasts from ascending a mountain, is met by Virgil, who promises to show him the punishments of Hell, and afterwards of Purgatory; and that he shall then be conducted by Beatrice into Paradise. He follows the Roman Poet.

It is arguable that when Humanists, "Shook off," as people say, "the trammels of religion," and discovered things of this world as objects of veneration in their own right... they began to lose the finer appreciation of even the world itself. Thus to the Christian centuries, the flesh was holy (or sacer at least in one sense or the other), and they veiled its awful majesty; to the Humanist centuries it was divine in its own right, and they exhibited it. Now it is the commonplace of the magazine cover. It has lost its numen. So too with the cult of knowledge for its own sake declining from the Revival of Learning to the Brains Trust.

They lived before the Christian age began. They paid no reverence, as was due to God. And in this number I myself am one.  40         For such deficiencies, no other crime, we all are lost yet only suffer harm through living in desire, but hopelessly.

As soon as that majestic force, which had already pierced me once before I had outgrown my childhood, struck my eyes, I turned to my left with the confidence a child has running to his mamma when he is afraid or in distress to say to Virgil: 'Not a single drop of blood remains in me that does not tremble-- I know the signs of the ancient flame.' But Virgil had departed, leaving us bereft: Virgil, sweetest of fathers, Virgil, to whom I gave myself for my salvation. And not all our ancient mother lost could save my cheeks, washed in the dew, from being stained again with tears.

Come, quando i vapori umidi e spessi A diradar cominciansi, la spera Del sol debilemente entra per essi....

My sins and crimes were horrible to hear. God, though, unendingly is good. His arms enfold and grasp all those who turn to Him.

And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy.” -Dante Alighieri, Purgatorio, Canto I.004-006.

You did as one who, walking by night, Carries the light behind him, where it does him no good, But is of advantage to those who come after him.

Bethink thee then how love must be the seed In you, not only of each virtuous action, But also of each punishable deed.

The soul, which is created quick to love, responds to everything that pleases, just as soon as beauty wakens it to act.

When I had journeyed half of our life’s way, I found myself within a shadowed forest, for I had lost the path that does not stray.

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, ché la diritta via era smarrita.

Se tu segui tua stella, non puoi fallire a glorioso porto

Now had the sun to that horizon reach'd, That covers, with the most exalted point Of its meridian circle, Salem's walls; And night, that opposite to him her orb Rounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth, Holding the scales, that from her hands are dropt When she reigns highest: so that where I was, Aurora's white and vermeil - tinctured cheek To orange turn'd as she in age increased.

    I saw there, on that threshold – framed – more than a thousand who had rained from Heaven. Spitting in wrath. ‘Who’s that,’ they hissed, ‘who, yet undead,  85         travels the kingdom of the truly dead?

The hope is that here, as in other respects, the reader is invited into a critical and collaborative venture, seeing what Dante sees and constructing along with him (as he himself asks his reader to do, for instance, in Paradiso 13: 1–18) the relationships that define us humans in our own participation in existence.

all flee from virtue as if it were a snake, an enemy to all, whether some curse is on the place or evil habits goad them on, 'and those who live in that unhappy valley are so altered in their nature it is as though Circe were grazing them at pasture.

all flee from virtue as if it were a snake, an enemy to all, whether some curse is on the place or evil habits goad them on, 'and those who live in that unhappy valley are so altered in their nature it is as though Circe were grazing them at pasture." Canto XV, 67-75

Y el azar, salvo que no hay azar, salvo que lo que llamamos azar es nuestra ignorancia de la compleja maquinaria de la causalidad, el azar me hizo encontrar tres pequeños volúmenes. Yo he debido traer uno como talismán ahora. Tres pequeños en la librería Mitchel que corresponden a tantos recuerdos míos, y esos tres pequeños volúmenes eran los tres tomos de "Infierno", el "Purgatorio" y el "Paraíso", vertidos al inglés [...]

You have the light that shows you right from wrongs, and your Free Will, which, though it may grow faint in its struggles with the heavens, can still surmount all obstacles if nurtured well. You are free of subjects of a greater power, a nobler nature that creates your mind...So, if the world has gone astray, the cause lies in yourselves and only there!

Zjavil som mu svet zločinov a špiny a teraz chcem mu zjaviť svet, kde z duší pod tvojou mocou zmývajú sa viny.

Ó, duša, v ktorej túžba za mnou planie, vrav tak, nech chápe ťa i duša moja,“ rieknem, „a obom splň nám vrúcne prianie.

Poeta fui, e cantai di quel giusto figliuol d'Anchise che venne di Troia, poi che 'l superbo Ilión fu combusto.

But Virgil had departed, leaving us bereft: Virgil, sweetest of fathers, Virgil, to whom I gave myself for my salvation.

Usury is an act of Violence against Art, which is the child of Nature and hence the Grandchild of God. (By

Dante’s Cantos average about 140 lines. As a general thing he requires no more than twenty or thirty lines to identify the sinner and to describe the punishment.

Form, in its interrelations, is the most speaking element.

English “broadcast” once meant specifically “a way of sowing” and was borrowed by radio as an analogy.

a sense of the right-choice-alwaysbeing-made”; and this applies to everything from the smallest word to the harmonious interrelation of the principal divisions.

The resulting effect to the ear, which must be the supreme judge in these matters,

works themselves, except as he could beg or borrow the manuscripts.

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate'.

ed elli avea del cul fatto trombetta.

le mani alzò con amendue le fiche,

gridando: «Togli, Dio, ch'a te le squadro!».

150 sì ch'ogne Bianco ne sarà feruto.

Allor li fu l'orgoglio sì caduto,

The young explorer from medieval Christendom went doggedly on from one work to another which he had seen mentioned, without adequate teachers, courses, reference works, or indeed, the

Dante Alighieri, Purgatorio W. H. Auden, “Musée des Beaux Arts,” from Collected Poems Jane Austen Russell Banks, Continental Drift Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog, translated by Alison Anderson Ishmael Beah, A Long Way Gone Alan Bennett, The Uncommon Reader The Holy Bible Elizabeth Bishop Roberto Bolaño, The Savage Detectives, translated by Natasha Wimmer

Keď zhrnú kocky, keď už skončia zaru, porazený sám dumá o pohrome a skúma vrh, čo bol by viedol k zdaru ‒ no celý dav i ďalej s víťazom je: ten odzadu, ten spredu sa naň tíska a ten sa zboku dáva na vedomie.

He has time for gossip, for prophecies, for marvelous dramatic interplays, for treatises on history, for analyzing the French monarchy, the corruption of the Church, the decay of Italian politics. He has time for all sorts of metaphysical treatises on such matters as the nature of the generative principle, literary criticism, meteorology—in short, for his whole unfinished encyclopedia. And he still has time to invent a death for Ulysses, to engage in a metamorphic contest with Ovid, to make side remarks to his friends.