That though we are certain of many things, yet that Certainty is no absolute Infallibility, there still remains the possibility of our being mistaken in all matters of humane Belief and Inquiry.

Time, as a river, hath brought down to us what is more light and superficial, while things more solid and substantial have been immersed.

The union of a sect within itself is a pitiful charity; it's no concord of Christians, but a conspiracy against Christ; and they that love one another for their opinionative concurrence, love for their own sakes, not their Lord's.

The understanding also hath its idiosyncrasies as well as other faculties.

To converse at the distance of the Indes by means of sympathetic contrivances may be as natural to future times as to us is a literary correspondence.

The woman in us still prosecutes a deceit like that begun in the garden.

What's impossible to all humanity may be possible to the metaphysics and physiology of angels.