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Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Stood
Sufficient
Though
Freedom
Free
Fall

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Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.
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Our reason is our law.
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Confidence imparts a wonderful inspiration to the possessor.
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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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A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses
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For to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.
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Which way I fly is Hell myself am Hell.
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To overcome in battle, and subdue Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch Of human glory.
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The pious and just honoring of ourselves may be thought the fountainhead from whence every laudable and worthy enterprise issues forth.
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Hail, wedded love, mysterious law true source of human happiness.
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But O yet more miserable! Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.
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It is Chastity, my brother. She that has that is clad in complete steel.
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Evil, be thou my good.
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O fairest of creation, last and best Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, Defaced, deflow'red, and now to death devote? Paradise Lost
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Yet much remains To conquer still peace hath her victories No less renowned then war, new foes arise Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains: Help us to save free conscience from the paw Of hireling wolves whose gospel is their maw.
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Impostor do not charge most innocent Nature, As if she would her children should be riotous With her abundance she, good cateress, Means her provision only to the good, That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of spare temperance.
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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Yet some there be that by due steps aspire To lay their just hands on that golden key That opes the palace of Eternity.
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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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