John Webster

“The greatest torture souls feel in hell is the despair of any redemption.”

“A quiet conscience is a continual Christmas.”

“I am Duchess of Malfi still.”

“We are merely the stars' tennis-balls, struck and banded which way please them.”

“Call for the robin-red-breast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men.”

“Oft gay and honoured robes those tortures try: We think caged birds sing, when indeed they cry.”

“Vain the ambition of kings Who seek by trophies and dead things To leave a living name behind, And weave but nets to catch the wind.”

“Wisdom is the conqueror of fortune.”

“Death hath ten thousand several doors for men to take their exits.”

“Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, Like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.”

“Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle. She died young.”

“Ambition, madam, is a great man's madness.”

“Let guilty men remember, their black deeds do lean on crutches made of slender reeds.”

“Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, But looked to near, have neither heat nor light.”