- Joan: I hear voices telling me what to do. They come from God.
Robert: They come from your imagination.
Joan: Of course. That is how the messages of God come to us. (Scene I) - The Archbishop: A miracle, my friend, is an event which creates faith. That is the purpose and nature of miracles. They may seem very wonderful to the people who witness them, and very simple to those who perform them. That does not matter: if they confirm or create faith they are true miracles. (Scene II)
- Dunois: Not a man will follow you.
Joan: I will not look back to see whether anyone is following me. (Scene III) - Warwick: Men cannot serve two masters. If this cant of serving their country once takes hold of them, goodbye to the authority of their feudal lords, and goodbye to the authority of the Church. (Scene IV)
- Cauchon: What will the world be when The Church's accumulated wisdom and knowledge and experience, its councils of learned, venerable pious men, are thrust into the kennel by every ignorant laborer or dairy-maid whom the devil can puff up with the monstrous self-conceit of being directly inspired from heaven? It will be a world of blood, of fury, of devastation, of each man striving for his own hand: in the end a world wrecked back into barbarism. [W]hat will it be when every girl thinks herself a Joan.? (Scene IV)
- Warwick: These two ideas of hers are the same idea at bottom. It goes deep, my lord. It is the protest of the individual soul against the interference of priest or peer between the private man and his God. I should call it Protestantism if I had to find a name for it. (Scene IV)
- Charles: Oh, your voices, your voices. Why don't the voices come to me? I am king, not you.
Joan: They do come to you, but you do not hear them. (Scene V) - Joan: I see now that the loneliness of God is His strength: what would He be if He listened to your jealous little counsels? (Scene V)
- Cauchon: Must then a Christ perish in torment in every age to save those that have no imagination? (Epilogue)
- Joan: O God that madest this beautiful earth, when will it be ready to receive Thy saints? How long, O Lord, how long? (Epilogue)
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