There is no sin but ignorance.

Virtue is the fount whence honour springs.

Make me immortal with a kiss.

All live to die, and rise to fall.

If we say that we have no sin, We deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us. Why then belike we must sin, And so consequently die. Ay, we must die an everlasting death.

Religion! O Diabole! Fie, I am asham'd, however that I seem, To think a word of such simple sound, Of such great matter should be made the ground.

Ah fair Zenocrate, divine Zenocrate, Fair is too foul an epithet for thee.