John Milton Quotes
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Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold.
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I sat me down to watch upon a bank With ivy canopied and interwove With flaunting honeysuckle.
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Be strong, live happy and love, but first of all Him whom to love is to obey, and keep His great command!
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Who aspires must down as low As high he soar'd.
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Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of Hell,And devilish machinations come to nought.
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What can 'scape the eye Of God, all-seeing, or deceive His heart. Omniscient!
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Madam, methinks I see him living yet;So well your words his noble virtues praise,That all both judge you to relate them true,And to possess them, honour'd Margaret.
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His words … like so many nimble and airy servitors trip about him at command.
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Ink is the blood of the printing-press.
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Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves.
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Alas! What boots it with uncessant care To tend the homely slighted Shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless muse; Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with th'abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life.
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Joking decides great things, Stronger and better oft than earnest can.
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My mansion is, where those immortal shapes Of bright aerial spirits live insphered In regions mild of calm and serene air, Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call Earth.
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Angels contented with their face in heaven, Seek not the praise of men.
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These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer Right onward.
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How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,Stol'n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
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Rather than be less Car'd not to be at all.
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From his lips/Not words alone pleased her.
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For the air of youth, Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign A melancholy damp of cold and dry To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume The balm of life.
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From that high mount of God whence light and shade Spring both, the face of brightest heaven had changed To grateful twilight.
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Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand; For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
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Confidence imparts a wonderful inspiration to the possessor.
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The conquer'd, also, and enslaved by war, Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose.
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Education of youth is not a bow for every man to shoot in that counts himself a teacher; but will require sinews almost equal to those which Homer gave to Ulysses.