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So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,Farewell remorse: all good to me is lostEvil,be thou my good.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Good
Remorse
Farewell
Thou
Losing
Evil
Hope
Fear
Lost
Adieu
More quotes by John Milton
First Moloch, horrid king, besmirched in blood, Of Human sacrifice, and parent's tears, Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, Their childrens' cries unheard, that passed through fire, To his grim idol.
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Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.
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God, who oft descends to visit men Unseen, and through their habitations walks To mark their doings.
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Live while ye may, Yet happy pair.
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You can make hell out of heaven and heaven out of hell. It's all in the mind.
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Luck is the residue of design.
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Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled.
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Here we may reign secure and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
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And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.
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Virtue that wavers is not virtue.
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So dear I love him, that with him, all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life.
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If we think we regulate printing, thereby to rectify manners, we must regulate all regulations and pastimes, all that is delightful to man.
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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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Virtue hath no tongue to check vice's pride.
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As children gath'ring pebbles on the shore. Or if I would delight my private hours With music or with poem, where so soon As in our native language can I find That solace?
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
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To many a youth and many a maid, dancing in the chequer'd shade.
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Angels contented with their face in heaven, Seek not the praise of men.
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A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, And pavement stars,--as stars to thee appear Seen in the galaxy, that milky way Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest Powder'd with stars.
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Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements, these piercing fires As soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper.
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