Though the dungeon, the scourge, and the executioner be absent, the guilty mind can apply the goad and scorch with blows.

And part of the soil is called to wash away In storms and streams shave close and gnaw the rocks. Besides, whatever the earth feeds and grows Is restored to earth. And since she surely is The womb of all things and their common grave, Earth must dwindle, you see and take on growth again.

Too often in time past, religion has brought forth criminal and shameful actions... How many evils has religion caused?

Tis pleasant to stand on shore and watch others labouring in a stormy sea.

Nothing can be created out of nothing.

Poor humanity, to saddle the gods with such a responsibility and throw in a vindictive temper. What griefs they hatch for themselves, what festering sores for us, what tears for our prosperity! This is not piety, this oft-repeated show of bowing a veiled head before a graven image; this bustling to every altar; this kow-towing and prostration on the ground with palms outspread before the shrines of the gods; this deluging of vow on vow. True piety lies rather in the power to contemplate the universe with a quiet mind.

Fear is the mother of all gods ... Nature does all things spontaneously, by herself, without the meddling of the gods.