Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me and be my love, / And we will all the pleasures prove.

Villains, think you to escape my power?

The desire of gold is the ruin of souls.

Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell.

O, soul, be changed into little water drops / And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found!

Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, / And then thou must be damned perpetually.

The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike.

I charge thee wait upon me whilst I live, / To do whatever Faustus shall command.

Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven, / That time may cease, and midnight never come.

When I behold the heavens as I do now, / Methinks that I could even climb the sky.

Is it not passing brave to be a king, / And ride in triumph through Persepolis?

What is beauty, saith my sufferings, then? / If all the pens that ever poets held / Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts.

Love is too full of faith, too credulous, / With folly and false hope deluding us.

Where both deliberate, the love is slight: / Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted, / Viewing her livery in her glass.

The gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.

I count religion but a childish toy, / And hold there is no sin but ignorance.

Oh, sacred hunger of ambitious minds!

We are resolved; our empire now is gone.

The mightiest kings have had their minions.