Every orthodoxy was a heresy in its own day.
Not all heresy is true, but every new truth begins as a heresy to someone.
Heresy is often what truth looks like as it is being born.
Orthodoxy is often what truth looks like as it dies.
What orthodoxy cannot establish by reason,
It imposes with scepter
Still new truth triumphs inevitably
As grass cracking up through the pavement.
Beautiful and true.