More Childish Valorous Than Manly

It Lies Not In Our Power To Love Or Hate, For Will In Us Is Overruled By Fate.

O Soul, Be Changed Into Little Waterdrops, / And Fall Into The Ocean, Ne'er Be Found!

It Is A Comfort To The Miserable To Have Comrades In Misfortune, But It Is A Poor Comfort After All.

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)

Love Is Not Ful Of Pittie (as Men Say) But Deaffe And Cruell, Where He Meanes To Pray.