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

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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Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer, Conspired against our God with Lucifer, And are for ever damned with Lucifer.
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Is it not passing brave to be a King and ride in triumph through Persepolis?
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I am Envy, I cannot read and therefore wish all books burned.
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If we say that we have no sin, We deceive ourselves, and there’s no truth in us. Why then belike we must sin, And so consequently die. Ay, we must die an everlasting death.
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Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov’d, that lov’d not at first sight?
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The griefs of private men are soon allayed, But not of kings.
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Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell.
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I count religion but a childish toy, and hold there is no sin but ignorance.
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You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute, And now and then stab, as occasion serves.
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Accurst be he that first invented war.
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Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ileum?
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