I count religion but a childish toy, and hold there is no sin but ignorance.
There is no sin but ignorance.
Goodness is beauty in the best estate.
You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute, And now and then stab, as occasion serves.
Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learned man. Faustus is gone.
Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?