All Places Shall Be Hell That Are

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!

Infinite Riches In A Little Room.

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.

Jigging Veins Of Rhyming Mother Wits.

I'm Armed With More Than Complete Steel, - The Justice Of My Quarrel.