Love me little, love me long.
I'm armed with more than complete steel, - The justice of my quarrel.
It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate.
What art thou Faustus, but a man condemned to die?
He that loves pleasure must for pleasure fall.
If we say that we have no sin, We deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us. Why then belike we must sin, And so consequently die. Ay, we must die an everlasting death.