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It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, That woman's love can win, or long inherit But what it is, hard is to say, Harder to hit.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Love
Harder
Life
Strength
Virtue
Valour
Wisdom
Inherit
Winning
Wit
Woman
Merit
Hard
Shape
Long
Shapes

More quotes by John Milton

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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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To be blind is not miserable not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable.
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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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There are no songs comparable to the songs of Zion, no orations equal to those of the prophets, and no politics like those which the Scriptures teach.
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And yet on the other hand unless warinesse be us'd, as good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book who kills a Man kills a reasonable creature, Gods Image, but hee who destroyes a good Booke, kills reason it selfe, kills the Image of God, as it were in the eye.
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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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Evil into the mind of god or man may come and go, so unapproved, and leave no spot or blame behind.
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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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Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.
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For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full Of honour, wealth, high fare, aimed not beyond Higher design than to enjoy his state.
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Temper justice with mercy.
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Hide me from day's garish eye.
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Dark with excessive bright.
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A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit.
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Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
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Imparadis'd in one another's arms.
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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
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It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.
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So he with difficulty and labour hard Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.
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His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power.
John Milton