It was Milton,” he certificatively added, “who converted me to diabolism.”“Diabolism? Oh, yes? Really?” said I, with that vague discomfort and that intense desire to be polite which one feels when a man speaks of his own religion. “You—worship the devil?”Soames shook his head. “It’s not exactly worship,” he qualified, sipping his absinthe. “It’s more a matter of trusting and encouraging.
-Max Beerbohm
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