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Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Preserved
Books
Book
Men
Life
Seasoned
Stored

More quotes by John Milton

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And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
John Milton
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The planets in their station list'ning stood.
John Milton
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Not to know me argues yourselves unknown.
John Milton
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Day and night, Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost Shall hold their course, till fire purge all things new.
John Milton
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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.
John Milton
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Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls his watery labyrinth, which whoso drinks forgets both joy and grief.
John Milton
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Who can enjoy alone? Or all enjoying what contentment find?
John Milton
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Nor aught availed him now to have built in heaven high towers nor did he scrape by all his engines, but was headlong sent with his industrious crew to build in hell.
John Milton
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Temper justice with mercy.
John Milton
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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.
John Milton
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
John Milton
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And to the faithful: death, the gate of life.
John Milton
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Love Virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.
John Milton
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Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
John Milton
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With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.
John Milton
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This horror will grow mild, this darkness light Besides what hope the never-ending flight Of future days may bring, what chance, what change Worth waiting--since our present lot appears For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, If we procure not to ourselves more woe.
John Milton
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Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
John Milton
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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.
John Milton
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Truth and understanding are not such wares as to be monopolized and traded in by tickets and statutes and standards. We must not think to make a staple commodity of all the knowledge in the land, to mark and license it like our broadcloth and our woolpacks.
John Milton
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Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.
John Milton