Who Ever Loved That Loved Not At

Make Me Immortal With A Kiss.

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.

Hell Strives With Grace For Conquest In My Breast. What Shall I Do To Shun The Snares Of Death?

Faustus. [stabbing His Arm.] Lo, Mephistophilis, For Love Of Thee, I Cut Mine Arm, And With My Proper Blood Assure My Soul To Be Great Lucifer's, Chief Lord And Regent Of Perpetual Night!

Ah Fair Zenocrate, Divine Zenocrate, Fair Is Too Foul An Epithet For Thee.