Quotes from John Milton

His words… like so many nimble and airy servitors trip about him at command.

Not that fair fieldOf Enna, where Proserpin gathering flowersHerself a fairer flower by gloomy DisWas gathered, which cost Ceres all that painTo seek her through the world.

Peace hath her victoriesNo less renown'd than war.

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,Most musical, most melancholy!

Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd.

Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.

Moloch, scepter'd king,Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spiritThat fought in heav'n; now fiercer by despair.

Truth… never comes into the world but like a bastard, to the ignominy of him that brought her forth.

Yet I argue notAgainst Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate one jotOf heart or hope; but still bear up, and steerRight onward.

Sober, steadfast, and demure.

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spotWhich men call earth.

As good almost kill a man as kill a good book: who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book kills reason itself.

Or call up him that left half toldThe story of Cambuscan bold.

While the cock with lively dinScatters the rear of darkness thin,And to the stack, or the barn door,Stoutly struts his dames before,Oft list'ning how the hounds and hornCheerly rouse the slumb'ring morn.

Peor and BaalimForsake their temples dim.

What in me is darkIllumine, what is low raise and support;That to the height of this great argumentI may assert eternal Providence,And justify the ways of God to men.

Arm th' obdur'd breastWith stubborn patience as with triple steel.

For who would lose,Though full of pain, this intellectual being,Those thoughts that wander through eternity,To perish rather, swallow'd up and lostIn the wide womb of uncreated night,Devoid of sense and motion?

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

Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds:At which the universal host up sentA shout that tore hell's concave, and beyondFrighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.

But now my task is smoothly done:I can fly, or I can run.

But all was false and hollow; through his tongueDropp'd manna, and could make the worse appearThe better reason.

Her rash hand in evil hourForth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat:Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat,Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woeThat all was lost.

Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true sourceOf human offspring.