John Milton Quotes
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I will not deny but that the best apology against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and honest deeds set against dishonest words.
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How oft, in nations gone corrupt, And by their own devices brought down to servitude, That man chooses bondage before liberty. Bondage with ease before strenuous liberty.
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It is Chastity, my brother. She that has that is clad in complete steel.
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But hail thou Goddess sage and holy, Hail, divinest Melancholy, Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue.
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With diadem and sceptre high advanced, The lower still I fall; only supreme In misery; such joy ambition finds.
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Without the meed of some melodious tear.
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Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine.
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Still paying, still to owe. Eternal woe!
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And join with thee, calm Peace and Quiet,Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.
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But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
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Yet I argue notAgainst Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate one jotOf heart or hope; but still bear up, and steerRight onward.
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Attic tragedies of stateliest and most regal argument.
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Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good.
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Let her (Truth) and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse in a free and open encounter?
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Evil on itself shall back recoil.
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Well observe The rule of Not too much, by temperance taught In what thou eat'st and drink'st.
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Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.
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I on the other side Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds; The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the doer.
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The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, But in another country, as he said, Bore a bright golden flow'r, but not in this soil; Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon.
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For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed;And yet anon repairs his drooping head,And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled oreFlames in the forehead of the morning sky.So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,Through the dear might of him that walked the waves.
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The helmed Cherubim, And sworded Seraphim, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd.
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To adore the conqueror, who now beholds Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood.
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Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
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Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.