Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.
He who destroys a good book kills reason itself.
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav'n.
Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war.
And yet on the other hand unless warinesse be us'd, as good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book; who kills a Man kills a reasonable creature, Gods Image, but hee who destroyes a good Booke, kills reason it selfe, kills the Image of God, as it were in the eye.
Love Virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.