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We shall sooner have the fowl by hatching the egg than by smashing it. Abraham Lincoln, White House speech 11 April 1865. Or arm th' obdured breast With stubborn patience as with triple steel.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
House
Breasts
Triple
Sooner
Smashing
Eggs
Abraham
Patience
Lincoln
Speech
April
Arms
Breast
Shall
Stubborn
Hatching
White
Steel
Fowl

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How oft, in nations gone corrupt, And by their own devices brought down to servitude, That man chooses bondage before liberty. Bondage with ease before strenuous liberty.
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My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
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It were a journey like the path to heaven, To help you find them.
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Time is the subtle thief of youth.
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Just are the ways of God, And justifiable to men Unless there be who think not God at all.
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I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night, Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend.
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Death to life is crown or shame.
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Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream. Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.
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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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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
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Spirits when they please Can either sex assume, or both.
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Servant of God, well done! well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintain'd Against revolted multitudes the cause of truth.
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And to the faithful: death, the gate of life.
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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
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The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.
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And as an ev'ning dragon came, Assailant on the perched roosts And nests in order rang'd Of tame villatic fowl.
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But O yet more miserable! Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.
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There swift return Diurnal, merely to officiate light Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot.
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Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do.
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Abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is.
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