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No mighty trance, or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Inspire
Spell
Inspires
Spells
Breathed
Mighty
Trance
Cell
Prophetic
Pale
Eyed
Priests
Priest
Cells
Prophecy

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Better to reign in hell than serve in heav'n.
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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
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Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, That comes to all.
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Reason also is choice.
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
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Just are the ways of God, And justifiable to men Unless there be who think not God at all.
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A limbo large and broad, since call'd The Paradise of Fools to few unknown.
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What honour that, But tedious waste of time, to sit and hear So many hollow compliments and lies.
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The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.
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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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Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers.
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Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do.
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A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all but torture without end.
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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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Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
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A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.
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God shall be all in all.
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Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burden.
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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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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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