Jigging Veins Of Rhyming Mother Wits.

Faustus: Stay, Mephistopheles, And Tell Me, What Good Will My Soul Do Thy Lord? Mephistopheles: Enlarge His Kingdom. Faustus: Is That The Reason He Tempts Us Thus? Mephistopheles: Solamen Miseris Socios Habuisse Doloris. (it Is A Comfort To The Wretched To Have Companions In Misery)

Blood Is The God Of War's Rich Livery.

All Places Shall Be Hell That Are Not Heaven.

Till Swollen With Cunning, Of A Self-conceit, His Waxen Wings Did Mount Above His Reach, And, Melting, Heavens Conspir'd His Overthrow.

I Count Religion But A Childish Toy, And Hold There Is No Sin But Ignorance.