Quote

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.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Heaven
Harmony
Supremely
Science
Ears
Aristotle
Music
Hearts
Chaste
Heart
Filled
Symphony
Resound
Would
Pure
Heavens
Imputed
Heard
Spheres
Pythagoras
Alone
Mortals
Wheeling
Stars
Lovely
Snowy

More quotes by John Milton

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Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, But must be current, and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partaken bliss.
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Oh, shame to men! devil with devil damn'd Firm concord holds, men only disagree Of creatures rational.
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Midnight shout and revelry, Tipsy dance and jollity.
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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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Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled.
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How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
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Hail, wedded love, mysterious law true source of human happiness.
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To know that which lies before us in daily life is the prime wisdom.
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Therefore God's universal law Gave to the man despotic power Over his female in due awe, Not from that right to part an hour, Smile she or lour.
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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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But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began.
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Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing, And the waters murmuring With such consort as they keep, Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.
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So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all our woe.
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Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.
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Not to know me argues yourselves unknown.
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Our state cannot be severed, we are one, One flesh to lose thee were to lose myself.
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He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.
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How often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note, Singing their great Creator?
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Our cure, to be no more sad cure!
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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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