Above our life we love a steadfast friend. |
Accursed be he that first invented war. |
All places are alike, and every earth is fit for burial. |
And I will make thee beds of roses / And a thousand fragrant posies. |
As their wealth increaseth, so enclose / Infinite riches in a little room. |
By shallow rivers to whose falls / Melodious birds sing madrigals. |
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 |
Confess and be hanged |
Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, / And burnèd is Apollo's laurel-bough, / That sometime grew within this learnèd man. |
Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness |
For Tamburlaine, the scourge of God, must die. |
Goodness is beauty in the best estate. |
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 |
Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia! / What, can ye draw but twenty miles a day? |
I count religion but a childish toy, and hold there is no sin but ignorance |