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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
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Christopher Marlowe
Age: 29 †
Born: 1564
Born: February 23
Died: 1593
Died: May 30
Author
Dramatist
Playwright
Poet
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Canterbury
United Kingdom
Kit Marlowe
Soul
Thee
Faustus
Great
Mines
Stabbing
Love
Mine
Lucifer
Cutting
Assure
Arms
Perpetual
Blood
Chief
Lord
Chiefs
Night
Proper
More quotes by Christopher Marlowe
O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.
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That perfect bliss and sole felicity, the sweet fruition of an earthly crown.
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Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness.
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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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Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ileum?
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I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife. I cannot read, and therefore wish all books were burnt I am lean with seeing others eat - O that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone then thou should'st see how fat I would be! But must thou sit and I stand? Come down, with a vengeance!
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What are kings, when regiment is gone, but perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
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You stars that reigned at my nativity, whose influence hath allotted death and hell.
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We control fifty percent of a relationship. We influence one hundred percent of it.
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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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Things that are not at all, are never lost.
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All live to die, and rise to fall.
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Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell.
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Confess and be hanged.
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It is a comfort to the miserable to have comrades in misfortune, but it is a poor comfort after all.
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Make me immortal with a kiss.
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Goodness is beauty in the best estate.
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Now I will show myselfTo have more of the serpent than the doveThat is--more knave than fool.
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
