What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
And mountainous error be too highly heaped
For truth to o'erpeer.

New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let 'em be unmanly) yet are follow'd

I had never before considered leaving my religion, my family, my customs, and my beliefs behind. It was all that I had ever known. Would it be worth it to give it all up? I had no way of knowing. It was frightening even to contemplate a life beyond

The believer is not a slave to fashion.

It is the very error of the moon;She comes more nearer earth than she was wont,And drives men mad.

Men are apt to prefer a prosperous error before an afflicted truth