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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.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
State
Remembrance
Hate
Sphere
Tell
Spheres
States
Fell
Glorious
Thee
Sun
Beams
Bring
Beam
More quotes by John Milton
A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit.
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This manner of writing wherein knowing myself inferior to myself? I have the use, as I may account it, but of my left hand.
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For truth is strong next to the Almighty. She needs no policies or stratagems or licensings to make her victorious. These are the shifts and the defences that error uses against her power.
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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.
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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell, By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale.
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Subdue By force, who reason for their law refuse, Right reason for their law.
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No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free.
John Milton
With thee conversing I forget all time.
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Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.
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Meanwhile the Adversary of God and man, Satan with thoughts inflamed of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and towards the gates of hell Explores his solitary flight.
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The virtuous mind that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
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Fate shall yield To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife.
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The planets in their station list'ning stood.
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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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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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And if by prayer Incessant I could hope to change the will Of Him who all things can, I would not cease To weary Him with my assiduous cries.
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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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Nor aught availed him now to have built in heaven high towers nor did he scrape by all his engines, but was headlong sent with his industrious crew to build in hell.
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