“The soul whose bosom lust did never touch Is God’s fair bride; and maiden’s souls are such.”

The flesh feeds on the Body and Blood of Christ that the soul may be fattened on God.

Christians are made, not born.

Patience is God’s nature.

Those who fled will fight another time.

Custom without truth is error grown old.

The fact is certain because it is impossible.

If the sky stands still, if the earth quakes, if there is famine, if there is pestilence, at once the cry is raised: Throw the Christians to the lions! So many to one?

Woman is a temple built over a sewer.

It is absolutely forbidden to repay evil with evil.

To forbid birth is only quicker murder.

It is certainly no part of religion to compel religion.

It is certain because it is possible.

A man becomes a Christian, he is not born one.

The blood of the Christians is seed.

We say, and we say openly, and while ye torture us, mangled and gory we cry out, “We worship God through Christ!” Believe Him a man: it is through Him and in Him that God willeth Himself to be known and worshipped.

Shall we carry a flag? It is a rival to Christ.

Knowing this first, that there shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after their own lusts

So this was where lust was satisfied. If I’d been an old-time miner I’d have asked for my gold nugget back.

It’s a pity nobody believes in simple lust anymore.

Love fucks me in ways even lust would envy.

Lips so gorgeous they could make fuck off sound like a love letter.

There is no disease so destructive as lust.

Women have hunger two-fold, shyness four-fold, daring six-fold, and lust eight-fold as compared to men.

Raided my heart, after you lust for me among others, for some reason you chose me it was chaos at first sight.