Strike Up The Drum And March Courageously.

Religion Hides Many Mischiefs From Suspicion.

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.

Religion! O Diabole! Fie, I Am Asham'd, However That I Seem, To Think A Word Of Such Simple Sound, Of Such Great Matter Should Be Made The Ground.

What Feeds Me Destroys Me.

O, Thou Art Fairer Than The Evening Air Clad In The Beauty Of A Thousand Stars.