Quote

From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Thoughts
Hornets
Arms
Swarm
Alone
Swarms
Upon
Deadly
Found
Restless
Thinking
Rush
Like
Sooner
Anxiety

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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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Aristotle ... imputed this symphony of the heavens ... this music of the spheres to Pythagorus. ... But Pythagoras alone of mortals is said to have heard this harmony ... If our hearts were as pure, as chaste, as snowy as Pythagoras' was, our ears would resound and be filled with that supremely lovely music of the wheeling stars.
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Time, though in Eternity, applied To motion, measures all things durable By present, past, and future.
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What reinforcement we may gain from hope If not, what resolution from despair.
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Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.
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Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers.
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Law can discover sin, but not remove, Save by those shadowy expiations weak.
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Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold.
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Each tree Laden with fairest fruit, that hung to th' eye Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat.
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Zeal and duty are not slow But on occasion's forelock watchful wait.
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Who can in reason then or right assume monarchy over such as live by right his equals, if in power or splendor less, in freedom equal?
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Better to reign in hell than serve in heav'n.
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If this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble.
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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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Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties.
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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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With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
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But O yet more miserable! Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.
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Fear of change perplexes monarchs.
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