Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ileum?
Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib’d one self place; for where we are is Hell, and where Hell is, there must we ever be.
Is it not passing brave to be a King and ride in triumph through Persepolis?
When the world dissolves, all places will be hell that are not heaven.
What are kings, when regiment is gone, but perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
You stars that reigned at my nativity, whose influence hath allotted death and hell.
Nothing violent, oft have I heard tell, can be permanent.
- William Congreve English Playwright, Poet
- Colley Cibber English Playwright, Poet, Actor
- John Dryden English Poet
- John Webster English Dramatist, Poet
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning English Poet
- Edna St. Vincent Millay American Poet, Playwright
- Natalie Clifford Barney American Playwright, Poet
- Lope de Vega Spanish Playwright, Poet
- Henrik Ibsen Norwegian Playwright
- J. B. Priestley English Novelist, Playwright