“Religion hides many mischiefs from suspicion.”

Above our life we love a steadfast friend.

Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer, Conspired against our God with Lucifer, And are for ever damned with Lucifer.

All women are ambitious naturally.

You stars that reigned at my nativity, whose influence hath allotted death and hell.

My men like satyrs grazing on the lawns, / Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.

Till swollen with cunning, of a self-conceit, His waxen wings did mount above his reach, And, melting, Heavens conspir’d his overthrow.

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.

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

Things that are not at all, are never lost.

Honour is purchas’d by the deeds we do.

Live and die in Aristotle’s works.

Religion! O Diabole! Fie, I am asham’d, however that I seem, To think a word of such simple sound, Of such great matter should be made the ground.

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

Strike up the drum and march courageously.

All places shall be hell that are not heaven.

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.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

Start seeing everything as God, But keep it a secret.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

If you correct your hidden deeds subsequently, Allaah will correct your outward deeds.

I hide my distress, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die. Wine! Wine, roses, music and your indifference to my sadness, my loved-one!

Truth is often eclipsed but never extinguished.

The music of an unhappy people, of the children of disappointment; they tell of death and suffering and unvoiced longing toward a truer world, of misty wanderings and hidden ways.

If possible could you just look in my eyes and find all the things I can’t seem to say.