Uncouth tongues, horrible shriekings of despair, Shrill and faint voices, cries of pain and rage, And, with it all, smiting of hands, were there, Making a tumult, nothing could assuage, To swirl in the air that knows not day or night, Like sand withi

-Dante Alighieri

Select a background
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image

More quotes by Dante Alighieri