John Milton Quotes

Those graceful acts, Those thousand decencies, that daily flow From all her words and actions, mixed with love And sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned Union of mind, or in us both one soul.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Adam, in Paradise Lost, bk. 8. Describing Eve.
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A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round As one great Furnace flam'd, yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all; but torture without end
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Paradise Lost (l. Bk. I, l. 61-67). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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A man may be a heretic in the truth; and if he believe things only because his pastor says so, or the assembly so determines, without knowing other reason, though his belief be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Areopagitica: a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing to the Parliament of England (1644).
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But the hot hell that always in him burns, Though in mid Heaven, soon ended his delight, And tortures him now more, the more he sees Of pleasure not for him ordained. Then soon Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites:
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Paradise Lost (l. Bk. IX, l. 467-472). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Areopagitica: a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing to the Parliament of England (1644).
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Fountains and ye, that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living souls, ye birds, That singing up to heaven gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise; Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail universal Lord, be bounteous still To give us only good; and if the night Have gathered aught of evil or concealed, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Paradise Lost (l. Bk. V, l. 195-208). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Areopagitica: a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing to the Parliament of England (1644).
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then from Pole to Pole He views in bredth, and without longer pause Down right into the Worlds first Region throws His flight precipitant, and windes with ease Through the pure marble Airhis oblique way Amongst innumerable Stars, that shon Stars distant, but nigh hand seemd other Worlds, Or other Worlds they seemd, or happy Iles, Like those Hesperian Gardens fam'd of old, Fortunate Fields, and Groves and flowrie Vales, Thrice happy Iles, but who dwelt happy there He stayd not to enquire.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Paradise Lost (l. Bk. III, l. 560-571). OBS. The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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When complaints are freely heard, deeply considered and speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of civil liberty attained that wise men look for.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Areopagitica: a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing to the Parliament of England (1644).
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Ah, why should all mankind For one man's fault thus guiltless be condemned, If guiltless? But from me what can proceed, But all corrupt, both mind and will depraved, Not to do only, but to will the same With me? How can they then acquitted stand In sight of God? Him, after all disputes, Forced I absolve. All my evasions vain And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still But to my own conviction: first and last On me, me only, as the source and spring Of all corruption, all the blame lights due; So might the wrath!
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Paradise Lost (l. Bk. X, l. 822-834). TOF. The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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