Policy sits above conscience.
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
Our enemies are our outward consciences.
Conscience is a thousand swords.
What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, and he but naked, though locked up in steel, whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.
I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience
Conscience is but a word that cowards use, / Devised at first to keep the strong in awe.