I count religion but a childish toy, and hold there is no sin but ignorance.
It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate.
Blood is the god of war's rich livery.
Fornication: but that was in another country; And besides, the wench is dead.
I am Envy...I cannot read and therefore wish all books burned.
Our swords shall play the orators for us.