[T]hou shalt find but a dark image and a painful of thine own soul […] umbelapped with black stinking clothes of sin […] a body of sin and a body of death […] Modernized from a late-14th-century text.

Call ye that a Society, … Where each, isolated, regardless of his neighbour, turned against his neighbour, clutches what he can get, and cries Mine! and calls it Peace, because, in the cut-purse and cut-throat Scramble, no steel knives, but only a far cunninger sort, can be employed?

The impotence of the female can be determined only by the infertileness of her eggs […]

They pittie not their owne ſpirituall miſery how Satan deludes them of the Beniſſon; but are foggie, full of feſtiuitie, loth to linquiſh, like to languiſh, and illiterated[…]