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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
Cunning
Waxen
Till
Faustus
Wings
Swollen
Reach
Overthrow
Heaven
Mount
Self
Conceit
Melting
Heavens
More quotes by 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
Virginity, albeit some highly prize it, Compared with marriage, had you tried them both, Differs as much as wine and water doth.
Christopher Marlowe
Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
Christopher Marlowe
Make me immortal with a kiss.
Christopher Marlowe
O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.
Christopher Marlowe
Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?
Christopher Marlowe
Fornication: but that was in another country And besides, the wench is dead.
Christopher Marlowe
What feeds me destroys me.
Christopher Marlowe
Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness.
Christopher Marlowe
... when all the world dissolves, And every creature shall be purified, All places shall be hell that are not heaven.
Christopher Marlowe
Accurst be he that first invented war.
Christopher Marlowe
Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell.
Christopher Marlowe
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.
Christopher Marlowe
All women are ambitious naturallie
Christopher Marlowe
Honour is purchas'd by the deeds we do.
Christopher Marlowe
Blood is the god of war's rich livery.
Christopher Marlowe
What are kings, when regiment is gone, but perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
Christopher Marlowe
You stars that reigned at my nativity, whose influence hath allotted death and hell.
Christopher Marlowe
Who hateth me but for my happiness? Or who is honored now but for his wealth? Rather had I, a Jew, be hated thus, Than pitied in a Christian poverty.
Christopher Marlowe
Live and die in Aristotle's works.
Christopher Marlowe
