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A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Names
Fantasy
Tongues
Throng
Men
Calling
Fantasies
Beckoning
Memory
Shadows
Syllable
Shapes
Shore
Sands
Shadow
Wilderness
Dire
Begin
Sand
Airy
Thousand
Desert
Shores
Memories
Tongue
Syllables
Wildernesses
More quotes by John Milton
Meanwhile the Adversary of God and man, Satan with thoughts inflamed of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and towards the gates of hell Explores his solitary flight.
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Death to life is crown or shame.
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Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled.
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Imparadis'd in one another's arms.
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
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But all was false and hollow though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash Maturest counsels.
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Subdue By force, who reason for their law refuse, Right reason for their law.
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Who aspires must down as low As high he soar'd.
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Wisdom's self oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, where with her best nurse Contemplation, she plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings that in the various bustle of resort were all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired.
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For the air of youth, Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign A melancholy damp of cold and dry To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume The balm of life.
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Now came still evening on and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad: Silence accompanied for beast and bird, They to they grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.
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His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power.
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Reason also is choice.
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What reinforcement we may gain from hope If not, what resolution from despair.
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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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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
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Solitude sometimes is best society.
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What if Earth be but the shadow of Heaven and things therein - each other like, more than on Earth is thought?
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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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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.
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