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Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Shot
Shots
Beheld
Grace
Graces
Beauty
Asleep
Whether
Hung
Waking
Peculiar
Forth

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For truth is strong next to the Almighty. She needs no policies or stratagems or licensings to make her victorious. These are the shifts and the defences that error uses against her power.
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It were a journey like the path to heaven, To help you find them.
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Hate is of all things the mightiest divider, nay, is division itself. To couple hatred, therefore, though wedlock try all her golden links, and borrow to tier aid all the iron manacles and fetters of law, it does but seek to twist a rope of sand.
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To many a youth and many a maid, dancing in the chequer'd shade.
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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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Believe and be confirmed.
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In argument with men a woman ever Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.
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Biochemically, love is just like eating large amounts of chocolate.
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Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter.
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Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
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There is no truth sure enough to justify persecution.
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Such joy ambition finds.
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Fame is the last infirmity of the human mind.
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O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.
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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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