John Milton Quotes
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Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image, but thee who destroys a good book, kills reason its self.
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Such sober certainty of waking bliss.
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Hope elevates, and joy Brightens his crest.
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The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
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Behold the kings of the Earth how they oppressThy chosen, to what highth thir pow'r unjustThey have exalted, and behind them castAll fear of thee, arise and vindicateThy Glory, free thy people from thir yoke
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More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues.
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Danger will wink on opportunity.
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God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.
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Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise...
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It is not hard for any man who hath a Bible in his hand to borrow good words and holy sayings in abundance; but to make them his own is a work of grace only from above.
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And the jocund rebecks soundTo many a youth, and many a maid,Dancing in the checkered shade.And young and old come forth to playOn a sunshine holiday.
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He who freely magnifies what hath been nobly done, and fears not to declares as freely what might be done better, gives ye the best covenant of his fidelity.
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Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures, Russet lawns and fallows grey, Where the nibbling flocks do stray, Mountains on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
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Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, That comes to all.
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Don't hold grudges; it's pointless. Jealousy too is a non-cathartic, negative emotion.
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He left it in thy power, ordaind thy will By nature free, not over-rul'd by Fate Inextricable, or strict necessity.
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So on this windy sea of land, the Fiend Walked up and down alone bent on his prey.
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Imparadis'd in one another's arms.
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Darkness now rose, as daylight sunk, and brought in low'ring Night her shadowy offspring.
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Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.
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Courtesy which oft is found in lowly sheds, with smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls and courts of princes, where it first was named.
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Our torments also may in length of time Become our Elements.
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And that must end us, that must be our cure: To be no more. Sad cure! For who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish, rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night Devoid of sense and motion?
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Death ready stands to interpose his dart.