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

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

Christopher Marlowe

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Is it not passing brave to be a King and ride in triumph through Persepolis?
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Brave King Ride Success
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

Happiness Live Love Nature
Make me immortal with a kiss.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Immortal Kiss Love Myself Romance
Blood is the god of war’s rich livery.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Blood God Rich War
All places shall be hell that are not heaven.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Heaven Hell Place Spiritual
Now I will show myself to have more of the serpent than the dove; That is–more knave than fool.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Appearance Fools Myself
While money doesn’t buy love, it puts you in a great bargaining position.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Love Money Position Price Yourself
When all the world dissolves, And every creature shall be purified, All places shall be hell that are not heaven.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Creature Heaven Hell Place Purity World
Nothing violent, oft have I heard tell, can be permanent.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Myself Talk Violence
Why should you love him whom the world hates so? Because he love me more than all the world.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Hate Love Myself World
Virtue is the fount whence honour springs.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Born Respect Spring Virtue
The griefs of private men are soon allayed, But not of kings.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Grief King Man Privacy
Jigging veins of rhyming mother wits.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Mom Rhyme
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.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Death Ourselves Sin Truth
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

Happiness Hate Myself Poverty Respect Wealth
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

Heaven Himself Reach Wings

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