"O conscience, upright and stainless, how bitter a sting to thee is a little fault!" — Dante Alighieri

Will cannot be quenched against its will.

Worldly fame is but a breath of wind that blows now this way, and now that, and changes name as it changes direction.

Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground.

He listens well who takes notes.