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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in 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
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Light
Bright
Dungeon
May
Sun
Bustle
Soul
Thoughts
Dungeons
Walks
Hides
Within
Foul
Dark
Breast
Clear
Centre
Enjoy
Breasts
Benighted
More quotes by John Milton
O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.
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With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
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His words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command. Ibid.
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And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
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The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.
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Don't hold grudges it's pointless. Jealousy too is a non-cathartic, negative emotion. .
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Such sober certainty of waking bliss.
John Milton
The starry cope Of heaven.
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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, as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the highest perfection.
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My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
John Milton
God shall be all in all.
John Milton
A boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless expos'd.
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O madness to think use of strongest wines And strongest drinks our chief support of health, When God with these forbidden made choice to rear His mighty champion, strong above compare, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.
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Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
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Earth felt the wound and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.
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Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate
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Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
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For so I created them free and free they must remain.
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So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all our woe.
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Fame is the last infirmity of the human mind.
John Milton