John Milton Quotes (574 Quotes)

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, And speckled vanity Will sicken soon and die.

Swinish gluttony Ne'er looks to heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast, But with besotted base ingratitude Crams, and blasphemes his feeder.

Care Sat on his faded cheek.

The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him

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

And strictly meditate the thankless Muse.

Mortals, that would follow me,
Love virtue; she alone is free.

They also serve who only stand and wait.

Rather than be less, Car'd not to be at all.

Pleas'd me, long choosing and beginning late.

Left that command Sole daughter of his voice.

Then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess A Paradise within thee, happier far.

Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements.

So well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best.

His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power.

The low'ring element Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape.

Tears such as angels weep.

A crown Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns Brings danger, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights To him who wears a regal diadem.

How charming is divine philosophy Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets Where no crude surfeit reigns.

When complaints are freely heard, deeply considered and speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of civil liberty attained that wise men look for.

Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy, Sphere-born harmonious sisters, voice and verse.

While the cock with lively din, Scatters 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 horn, Cheerly rouse the slumb'ring morn

Abash'd the devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely.

Anarchy is the sure consequence of tyranny or no power that is not limited by laws can ever be protected by them.

Fear of change perplexes monarchs.

Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou livest
Live well; how long, or short, permit to Heaven:
And now prepare thee for another sight.

Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars, White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery.

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

For evil news rides post, while good news baits.

In mirth that after no repenting draws.

To the Nightingale O Nightingale that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, Portend success in love O, if Jove's will Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay, Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh As thou from year to year hast sung too late For my relief, yet hadst no reason why Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate, Both them I serve, and of their train am I.

Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

The bright consummate flower.

Far from all resort of mirth Save the cricket on the hearth.

Farewell happy fields, Where joy forever dwells hail, horrors.

A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.

More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues.

It is for homely features to keep home, They had their name thence coarse complexions And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply The sampler and to tease the huswife's wool. What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that, Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn.

But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return.

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

All hell broke loose.

I am good, loving,
Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and
Save thou thy servant O my God holy things
Who still in thee doth trust.

And with necessity, The tyrant's plea, 10 excus'd his devilish deeds.

Attic tragedies of stateliest and most regal argument.

Not to know at large of things remote From us, obscure and subtle, but to know That which before us lies in daily life Is the prime wisdom.

My sentence is for open war.

Hope elevates, and joy Brightens his crest.

Hail holy light offspring of heav'n first-born.

Gorgons and Hydras and Chimras dire.

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.