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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
Men
Calling
Fantasies
Beckoning
Memory
Shadows
Syllable
Shapes
Shore
Sands
Shadow
Wilderness
Dire
Begin
Sand
Airy
Thousand
Desert
Shores
Memories
Tongue
Syllables
Wildernesses
Names
Fantasy
Tongues
Throng
More quotes by John Milton
He who tempts, though in vain, at last asperses The tempted with dishonor foul, supposed Not incorruptible of faith, not proof Against temptation.
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Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply With our own hands his office on ourselves Why stand we longer shivering under fears, That show no end but death, and have the power, Of many ways to die the shortest choosing, Destruction with destruction to destroy.
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Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.
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These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot Of heart or hope but still bear up and steer Right onward.
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Those whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme
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Eloquence the soul, song charms the senses.
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And as an ev'ning dragon came, Assailant on the perched roosts And nests in order rang'd Of tame villatic fowl.
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The strongest and the fiercest spirit That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.
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Thy actions to thy words accord thy words To thy large heart give utterance due thy heart Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
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These evils I deserve, and more . . . . Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and his eye Gracious to re-admit the suppliant.
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How oft, in nations gone corrupt, And by their own devices brought down to servitude, That man chooses bondage before liberty. Bondage with ease before strenuous liberty.
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This manner of writing wherein knowing myself inferior to myself? I have the use, as I may account it, but of my left hand.
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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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Rhime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter...the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.
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What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe?
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Ink is the blood of the printing-press.
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The childhood shows the man As morning shows the day. Be famous then By wisdom as thy empire must extend, So let extend thy mind o'er all the world.
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This is the month, and this the happy morn, wherein the Son of heaven's eternal King, of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born, our great redemption from above did bring.
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Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies.
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With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
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