Had I as many souls as there be stars, I'd give them all for Mephistopheles!
All live to die, and rise to fall.
What are kings, when regiment is gone, but perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
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.
Love me little, love me long.
Religion hides many mischiefs from suspicion.