John Milton Quotes

Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.

The end of all learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and imitate Him.

He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.

He who destroys a good book kills reason itself.

Have hung My dank and dropping weeds To the stern god of sea.

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day!

Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.

Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, sober steadfast, and demure, all in a robe of darkest grain, flowing with majestic train.

I sat me down to watch upon a bank With ivy canopied and interwove With flaunting honeysuckle.

Love Virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.

There is nothing that making men rich and strong but that which they carry inside of them. True wealth is of the heart, not of the hand.

Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls his watery labyrinth, which whoso drinks forgets both joy and grief.

None can love freedom heartily, but good men; the rest love not freedom, but license.

Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties.

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul And lap it in Elysium.

Where no hope is left, is left no fear.

Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.

Gratitude bestows reverence.....changing forever how we experience life and the world.

Better to reign in hell than serve in heav'n.

Him that yon soars on golden wing, guiding the fiery-wheelèd throne, the Cherub Contemplation.

No mighty trance, or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

Pandemonium, the high capital Of Satan and his peers.

Fairy damsels met in forest wide / By knights of Logres, or of Lyones, / Lancelot or Pelleas, or Pellenore.

The timely dew of sleep Now falling with soft slumb'rous weight inclines Our eyelids.

Solitude sometimes is best society.

Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost.

The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven.

All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield.

Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burden.

Freely we serve, because freely we love.

A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit.

Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.

To be blind is not miserable; not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable.

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.

Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good.

Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.

Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, in every gesture dignity and love.

Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.

Nothing profits more than self-esteem, grounded on what is just and right.

Yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible.

The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.

Believe and be confirmed.

From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.

Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.

Abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is.

Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell, By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale.

Luck is the residue of design.

The whole freedom of man consists either in spiritual or civil liberty.

And out of good still to find means of evil.

Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine.