How well I know that flowing spring in black of night. The eternal fountain is unseen. How well I know where she has been in black of night. I do not know her origin. None. Yet in her all things begin in black of night. I know that nothing is so fair and earth and firmament drink there in black of night. I know that none can wade inside to find her bright bottomless tide in black of night. Her shining never has a blur; I know that all light comes from her in black of night. I know her streams converge and swell and nourish people, skies and hell in black of night. The stream whose birth is in this source I know has a gigantic force in black of night. The stream from but these two proceeds yet neither one, I know, precedes in black of night. The eternal fountain is unseen in living bread that gives us being in black of night. She calls on all mankind to start to drink her water, though in dark, for black is night. O living fountain that I crave, in bread of life I see her flame in black of night.
"Slavery ended in medieval Europe only because the church extended its sacraments to all slaves and then managed to impose a ban on the enslavement of Christians (and of Jews). Within the context of medieval Europe, that prohibition was effectively a rule of universal abolition. "— Rodney Stark