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Quotes from John Milton

Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
~ John Milton
The Oracles are dumb.
~ John Milton
These are thy glorious works, Parent of good.
~ John Milton
But oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd,I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.
~ John Milton
Methought I saw my late espoused saintBrought to me like Alcestis from the grave.
~ John Milton
Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,Where thou perhaps under the whelming tideVisit'st the bottom of the monstrous world.
~ John Milton
The mountain nymph, sweet liberty.
~ John Milton
It was the winter wildWhile the Heav'n-born childAll meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.
~ John Milton
Yet some there be that by due steps aspireTo lay their just hands on that golden keyThat opes the palace of Eternity.
~ John Milton
Socrates…Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'dWisest of men.
~ John Milton
Nations grown corrupt Love bondage more than liberty; Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty.
~ John Milton
What if earthBe but the shadow of heaven, and things thereinEach to other like, more than on earth is thought?
~ John Milton
He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.
~ John Milton
The never-ending flightOf future days.
~ John Milton
More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'dTo hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days,On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues;In darkness, and with dangers compass'd round,And solitude.
~ John Milton
At certain revolutions all the damn'dAre brought: and feel by turns the bitter changeOf fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce.
~ John Milton
He's gone; and who knows how he may reportThy words by adding fuel to the flame?
~ John Milton
Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold.
~ John Milton
Rather than be lessCar'd not to be at all.
~ John Milton
Morn,Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy handUnbarr'd the gates of light.
~ John Milton
Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints, whose bonesLie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold;Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of oldWhen all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stonesForget not.
~ John Milton
A poet soaring in the high region of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.
~ John Milton
My race of glory run, and race of shame,And I shall shortly be with them at rest.
~ John Milton
Deep vers'd in books and shallow in himself.
~ John Milton