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Biochemically, love is just like eating large amounts of chocolate.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Amounts
Chocolate
Large
Eating
Amount
Love
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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav'n.
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Fear of change perplexes monarchs.
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Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.
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There is no Christian duty that is not to be seasoned and set off with cheerishness, which in a thousand outward and intermitting crosses may yet be done well, as in this vale of tears.
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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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I will not deny but that the best apology against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and honest deeds set against dishonest words.
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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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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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Fate shall yield To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife.
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We read not that Christ ever exercised force but once and that was to drive profane ones out of his Temple, not to force them in.
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But hail thou Goddess sage and holy, Hail, divinest Melancholy, Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue.
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Spirits when they please Can either sex assume, or both.
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The redundant locks, robustious to no purpose, clustering down--vast monument of strength.
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It is for homely features to keep home,- They had their name thence coarse complexions And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply The sampler and to tease the huswife's wool. What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that, Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
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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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Where all life dies death lives.
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Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
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The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.
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Our cure, to be no more sad cure!
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