The Divine Comedy

The moment a poet admits that language has finally run out.

Whereat to turn mine eyes on BeatriceMy seeing nothing and my love constrained me.If what has hitherto been said of herWere all concluded in a single praise,Scant would it be to serve the present turn.Not only does the beauty I beheldTranscend ourselves, but truly I believeIts Maker only may enjoy it all.Vanquished do I confess me by this passageMore than by problem of his theme was everO’ercome the comic or the tragic poet;For as the sun the sight that trembles most,Even so the memory of that sweet smileMy mind depriveth of its very self.

The moment a teacher steps back and tells you to choose for yourself.

When underneath us was the stairway allRun o’er, and we were on the highest step,Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes,And said: “The temporal fire and the eternal,Son, thou hast seen, and to a place art comeWhere of myself no farther I discern.By intellect and art I here have brought thee;Take thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth;Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou.Behold the sun, that shines upon thy forehead;Behold the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubsWhich of itself alone this land produces.

What it is to meet a lost friend and close your arms on air.

One from among them saw I coming forward,As to embrace me, with such great affection,That it incited me to do the like.O empty shadows, save in aspect only!Three times behind it did I clasp my hands,As oft returned with them to my own breast!I think with wonder I depicted me;Whereat the shadow smiled and backward drew;