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Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Jealousy
Jealous
Lover
Lovers
Understood
Hell
Understanding
More quotes by John Milton
. . . for beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive. Cease to admire, and all her plumes Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, At every sudden slighting quite abash'd.
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And to the faithful: death, the gate of life.
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Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.
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Tis chastity, my brother, chastity She that has that is clad in complete steel, And, like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen, May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, No savage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer, Will dare to soil her virgin purity.
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Fame is the last infirmity of the human mind.
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Angels contented with their face in heaven, Seek not the praise of men.
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Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
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The spirits perverse with easy intercourse pass to and fro, to tempt or punish mortals.
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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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Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves.
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Hell has no benefits, only torture.
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Truth is compared in Scripture to a streaming fountain if her waters flow not in perpetual progression, they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition.
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Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
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Th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair.
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Let us go forth and resolutely dare with sweat of brow to toil our little day.
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What reinforcement we may gain from hope If not, what resolution from despair.
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Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child!
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Where all life dies death lives.
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Nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study household good, And good works in her husband to promote.
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Fairy damsels met in forest wide / By knights of Logres, or of Lyones, / Lancelot or Pelleas, or Pellenore.
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