John Milton Quotes
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If the will, which in the law of our nature, were withdrawn from our memory, fancy, understanding, and reason, no other hell could equal, for a spiritual being, what we should then feel from the anarchy of our powers. It would be conscious madness,--a horrid thought!
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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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The greatest burden in the world is superstition, not only of ceremonies in the church, but of imaginary and scarecrow sins at home.
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Where glowing embers through the roomTeach light to counterfeit a gloom,Far from all resort of mirth,Save the cricket on the hearth.
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Knowledge cannot defile, nor consequently the books, if the will and conscience be not defiled.
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Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy even-song.
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Yet hold it more humane, more heav'nly, first, By winning words to conquer willing hearts, And make persuasion do the work of fear.
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He that can apprehend and consider vice with all her baits and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain, and yet distinguish, and yet prefer that which is truly better, he is the true wayfaring Christian. I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat. Assuredly we bring not innocence into the world, we bring impurity much rather: that which purifies us is trial, and trial is by what is contrary.
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Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
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Those whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme...
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The power of Kings and Magistrates is nothing else, but what is only derivative, transferrd and committed to them in trust from the People, to the Common good of them all, in whom the power yet remaines fundamentally, and cannot be takn from them, without a violation of thir natural birthright.
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While the cock with lively dinScatters the rear of darkness thin,And to the stack, or the barn door,Stoutly struts his dames before,Oft list'ning how the hounds and hornCheerly rouse the slumb'ring morn.
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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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Of which all Europe rings from side to side.
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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
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A grateful mind/ By owing owes not, but still pays, at once/ Indebted and discharg'd.
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The brazen throat of war.
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Though we take from a covetous man all his treasure, he has yet one jewel left; you cannot bereave him of his covetousness.
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A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.
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What is dark within me, illumine.
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At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue:Tomorrow to fresh woods and pastures new.
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For what is glory but the blaze of fame?
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Our state cannot be severed, we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.
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His words … like so many nimble and airy servitors trip about him at command.