"Souls in heathen darkness lying, where no light has broken through, souls that Jesus bought by dying, whom his soul in travail knew.... Haste, o haste and spread the tidings, let no shore be left untrod, no lost brother's bitter chidings haunt us from the further sod; tell the heathen all the precious truths of God."

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There is an utterance of Necessity, an ancient decree of the gods, eternal, sealed fast with broad oaths: whenever any one defiles his body sinfully with bloody gore or perjures himself in regard to wrong-doing, one of those spirits who are heir to long life, thrice ten thousand seasons shall he wander apart from the blessed, being born meantime in all sorts of mortal forms, changing one bitter path of life for another.

— Empedocles