And what is faith, love, virtue unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustained?
The liberty of conscience, which above all other things ought to be to all men dearest and most precious.
Dark with excessive bright.
All hope is lost of my reception into grace; what worse? For where no hope is left, is left no fear.
Most men admire Virtue who follow not her lore.
Arms on armour clashing bray'd Horrible discord, and the madding wheels Of brazen chariots rag'd: dire was the noise Of conflict.