Whom conscience, ne'er asleep, Wounds with incessant strokes, not loud, but deep.
Michel de MontaigneFor there is no air that men so greedily draw in, that diffuses itself so soon, and that penetrates so deep as that of license.
Michel de MontaigneWhom conscience, ne'er asleep, Wounds with incessant strokes, not loud, but deep.
Michel de MontaigneFor there is no air that men so greedily draw in, that diffuses itself so soon, and that penetrates so deep as that of license.
Michel de Montaigne