John Milton Quotes
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The first and wisest of them all professed To know this only, that he nothing knew.
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I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs By the known rules of ancient liberty, When straight a barbarous noise environs me Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs.
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Hide me from day's garish eye,While the bee with honied thigh,That at her flowery work doth sing,And the waters murmuringWith such consort as they keep,Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.
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Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit/Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste/Brought death into the world, and all our woe,/With loss of Eden, till one greater Man/Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,/Sing heavenly muse...
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Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.
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Incens'd with indignation Satan stood Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war.
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Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell >From heaven; for ev'n in heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd In vision beatific.
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As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.
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Fear of change perplexes monarchs.
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Consider first, that great or bright infers not excellence.
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A boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless expos'd.
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Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.
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Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view.
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Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve The faith they owe; when earnestly they seek Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail.
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Praise from an enemy smells of craft.
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Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me man? Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me?
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Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.
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Fate shall yield To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife.
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Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
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Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.
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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with theeJest, and youthful jollity,Quips and cranks and wanton wiles,Nods and becks and wreathèd smiles.
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The whole freedom of man consists either in spiritual or civil liberty.
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What hath night to do with sleep?
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And sing to those that hold the vital shears; And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of gods and men is wound.