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Solitude sometimes is best society.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Companionship
Solitude
Society
Best
Sometimes

More quotes by John Milton

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Death to life is crown or shame.
John Milton
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Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter.
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Reason also is choice.
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A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.
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Farewell Hope, and with Hope farewell Fear
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Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.
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But that from us aught should ascend to Heav'n So prevalent as to concern the mind Of God, high-bless'd, or to incline His will, Hard to belief may seem yet this will prayer.
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What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste?
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With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
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No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free.
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Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
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Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
John Milton
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Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.
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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
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Sweet intercourse of looks and smiles for smiles from reason flow.
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And these gems of Heav'n, her starry train.
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Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd.
John Milton
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So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And in clear dream and solemn vision Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape.
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Her silent course advance With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps On her soft axle.
John Milton
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Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
John Milton