The sages of old live again in us, and in opinions there is a metempsychosis.
Some pretences daunt and discourage us, while others raise us to a brisk assurance.
What's impossible to all humanity may be possible to the metaphysics and physiology of angels.
And for mathematical science, he that doubts their certainty hath need of a dose of hellebore.
The woman in us still prosecutes a deceit like that begun in the garden.
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.