John Milton Quotes
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Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell, By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale.
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The rising world of waters dark and deep.
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The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burthensome, still paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still receivd, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and dischargd; what burden then?
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No date prefixed directs me in the starry rubric set.
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O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day!
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Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
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Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.
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O fleeting joys Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes!
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The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the highest perfection.
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None can love freedom heartily, but good men; the rest love not freedom, but licence.
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It was from out the rind of one apple tasted, that the knowledge of good and evil, as two twins cleaving together, leaped forth into the world.
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What is strength without a double share of wisdom?
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That old man eloquent.
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Ah, why should all mankind For one man's fault, be condemned, If guiltless?
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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to holdA sheep-hook.
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And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons.
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And now without redemption all mankind Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell By doom severe.
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Tis chastity, my brother, chastity; She that has that is clad in complete steel, And, like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen, May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds; Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, No savage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer, Will dare to soil her virgin purity.
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God made thee perfect, not immutable.
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Herbs, and other country messes,Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.
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A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all; but torture without end.
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Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
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Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odours, fruits, flocks, Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, But all to please and sate the curious taste?
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Those graceful acts, those thousand decencies, that daily flow from all her words and actions, mixed with love and sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned union of mind, or in us both one soul.