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They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Quaff
Communion
Immortality
Sweet
Drink
Joy

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Our country is where ever we are well off.
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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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Where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, for opinion in good men is but knowledge in the making.
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None But such as are good men can give good things, And that which is not good, is not delicious To a well-govern'd and wise appetite.
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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
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Nor from hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place.
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I call a complete and generous education that which fits a man to perform justly, skillfully, and magnanimously all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war.
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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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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
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But that from us aught should ascend to Heav'n So prevalent as to concern the mind Of God, high-bless'd, or to incline His will, Hard to belief may seem yet this will prayer.
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Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know, Can it be death? And do they only stand By ignorance? Is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith? O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin!
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And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.
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O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
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Nor love thy life, nor hate but what thou livest, Live well how long, or short, permit to Heaven.
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Part of my soul I seek thee, and claim thee my other half
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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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Which way I fly is Hell myself am Hell.
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Virtue that wavers is not virtue.
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Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war.
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So little knows Any, but God alone, but perverts best things To worst abuse, or to their meanest use.
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