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Till swollen with cunning, of a self-conceit, His waxen wings did mount above his reach, And, melting, Heavens conspir'd his overthrow.
Christopher Marlowe
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Christopher Marlowe
Age: 29 †
Born: 1564
Born: February 23
Died: 1593
Died: May 30
Author
Dramatist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Canterbury
United Kingdom
Kit Marlowe
Self
Conceit
Melting
Heavens
Cunning
Waxen
Till
Faustus
Wings
Swollen
Reach
Overthrow
Heaven
Mount
More quotes by Christopher Marlowe
Infinite riches in a little room.
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What are kings, when regiment is gone, but perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
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Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed In one self place, for where we are is hell, And where hell is there must we ever be.
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... when all the world dissolves, And every creature shall be purified, All places shall be hell that are not heaven.
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O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.
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Had I as many souls as there be stars, I'd give them all for Mephistopheles!
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Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ileum?
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All live to die, and rise to fall.
Christopher Marlowe
Blood is the god of war's rich livery.
Christopher Marlowe
Virginity, albeit some highly prize it, Compared with marriage, had you tried them both, Differs as much as wine and water doth.
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We control fifty percent of a relationship. We influence one hundred percent of it.
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Accurst be he that first invented war.
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What feeds me destroys me.
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FAUSTUS. [Stabbing his arm.] Lo, Mephistophilis, for love of thee, I cut mine arm, and with my proper blood Assure my soul to be great Lucifer's, Chief lord and regent of perpetual night!
Christopher Marlowe
Faustus: Stay, Mephistopheles, and tell me, what good will my soul do thy lord? Mephistopheles: Enlarge his kingdom. Faustus: Is that the reason he tempts us thus? Mephistopheles: Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris. (It is a comfort to the wretched to have companions in misery)
Christopher Marlowe
Confess and be hanged.
Christopher Marlowe
Goodness is beauty in the best estate.
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There is no sin but ignorance.
Christopher Marlowe
Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learned man. Faustus is gone.
Christopher Marlowe
You stars that reigned at my nativity, whose influence hath allotted death and hell.
Christopher Marlowe
