“Custom without truth is error grown old.”

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.

Now we allow that life begins with conception, because we contend that the soul also begins from conception; life taking its commencement at the same moment and place that the soul does.

The whole fruit is already present in the seed.

I believe BECAUSE it’s impossible.

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

For it is really better for us not to know a thing, because [God] has not revealed it to us, than to know it according to man’s wisdom, because he has been bold enough to assume it.

How many men of rank (to say nothing of common people) have been delivered from devils, and healed of diseases!

Learn about the incorruptible King, and know his heroes who never inflict slaughter on the peoples.

See how these Christians love one another.

Men remain in ignorance as long as they hate, and they hate unjustly as long as they remain in ignorance.

You can judge the quality of their faith from the way they behave. Discipline is an index to doctrine.

Nature soaks every evil with either fear or shame.

Those that were up themselves, kept others low; Those that were low themselves, held others hard; He suffered them to ryse or greater grow; But every one did strive his fellow down to throw.

I knew I held strength when in the darkest, coldest corner of my mind I managed to make flowers grow.

No dainty flower or herbs that grows on ground, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweet, but there it might be found To bud out fair, and throw her sweet smells all around.

To truly taste the sweetness of the fruit, you must love the dirt it grows from.

When everyone at school is speaking one language, and a lot of your classmates’ parents also speak it, and you go home and see that your community is different -there is a sense of shame attached to that. It really takes growing up to treasure the specialness of being different.

A man’s mind grows narrow in a narrow place.

Me seems the world is run quite out of square,From the first point of his appointed source,And being once amiss grows daily worse and worse.

Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.