Quotes by John Milton

Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph that livst unseenWithin thy airy shellBy slow Meanders margent green,And in the violet-imbroiderd valeWhere the love-lorn nightingaleNightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pairThat likest thy Narcissus are?

Not so on Man; him through their malice falln,Father of Mercy and Grace, thou didst not doomSo strictly, but much more to pity incline:No sooner did thy dear and only SonPerceive thee purposd not to doom frail ManSo strictly, but much more to pity inclind,He to appease thy wrath, and end the strifeOf mercy and Justice in thy face discernd,Regardless of the Bliss wherein hee satSecond to thee, offerd himself to dieFor mans offence. O unexampld love,Love nowhere to be found less than Divine!Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy NameShall be the copious matter of my SongHenceforth, and never shall my Harp thy praiseForget, nor from thy Fathers praise disjoin.

One sip of this will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, beyond the bliss of dreams.

Thou art my father, thou my author, thou my being gavst me; whom should I obey but thee, whom follow?

Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,Said then the lost Archangel, this the seatThat we must change for heavn, this mournful gloomFor that celestial light? Be it so since he Who now is sovereign can dispose and bid What shall be right. Farthest from him is best Whom reason hath equaled force hath made supreme Above his equals. Farewell happy fieldsWhere joy forever dwells. Hail horrors HailInfernal world, and thou profoundest hellReceive thy new possessor, one who bringsA mind not to be changed by place or timeThe mind is its own place and in itselfCan make a heavn of hell, a hell of heavn.What matter where if I be still the sameAnd what I should be--All but less than heWhom thunder hath made greater. Here at leastWe shall be free. Th Almighty hath not builtHere for his envy will not drive us hence.Here we may reign supreme, and in my choiceTo reign is worth ambition, though in hell.Better to reign in hell than serve in Heavn.But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,Thassociates and co-partners of our lossLie thus astonished on th oblivious pool.And call them not to share with us their partIn this unhappy mansion? Or, once more,With rallying arms, to try what may be yetRegained in heavn or what more lost in hell!

They changed their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell.

So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosedIn serpent, inmate bad! and toward EveAddressed his way: not with indented wave,Prone on the ground, as since; but on his rear,Circular base of rising folds, that toweredFold above fold, a surging maze! his headCrested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes;With burnished neck of verdant gold, erectAmidst his circling spires, that on the grassFloated redundant: pleasing was his shapeAnd lovely; never since of serpent-kindLovelier…

But first whom shall we sendIn search of this new world, whom shall we findSufficient? Who shall tempt, with wandring feetThe dark unbottomed infinite abyssAnd through the palpable obscure find outHis uncouth way, or spread his aery flightUpborne with indefatigable wingsOver the vast abrupt, ere he arriveThe happy isle?

th unconquerable will,/ And study of revenge, immortal hate,/ And courage never to submit or yield/ And what is else not to be overcome?

But say I could repent and could obtaineBy Act of Grace my former state: how soonwould higth recal high thoughts; how soon unsaywhat feignd submission swore: ease would recantvows made in pain, as violent and void. For never can true reconcilement growwhere wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:which would but lead me to a worse relapseand heavier fall: so should I purchase cleaveshort intermission bought with double smart:This knows my punisher; therefore as farfrom granting here, as I from begging peace:All hope excluded thus, behold in steadof us out-cast, exild, his new delight, Mankind created, and for his this World. So farewell Hope, and with Hope farwel Fear,Farewel Remorse: all Good to me is lost.

Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.

To hear the lark begin his flight And singing startle the dull night. From his watchtower in the skies Til the dappled dawn doth rise.

A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.

A good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.

As good almost kill a man as kill a good book: who kills a man kills a reasonable creature Gods image but he who destroys a good book kills reason itself kills the image of God as it were in the eye.

Knowledge cannot defile nor consequently the books if the will and conscience be not defiled.

The childhood shows the man As morning shows the day.

Servant of God well done! Well hast thou fought The better fight.

Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.

Deep versed in books and shallow in himself.