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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
Spells
Breathed
Mighty
Trance
Cell
Prophetic
Pale
Eyed
Priests
Priest
Cells
Prophecy
Inspire
Spell
Inspires
More quotes by John Milton
Prudence is the virtue by which we discern what is proper to do under various circumstances in time and place.
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As children gath'ring pebbles on the shore. Or if I would delight my private hours With music or with poem, where so soon As in our native language can I find That solace?
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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun Himself his own dungeon.
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Our reason is our law.
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Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown in courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, where most may wonder at the workmanship.
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Ornate rhetorick taught out of the rule of Plato.... To which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, as being less suttle and fine, but more simple, sensuous, and passionate.
John Milton
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
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Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.
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O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.
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Hail holy light, offspring of heav'n firstborn!
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Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand in the sight of God enthroned, our happy state hold, as you yours, while our obedience hold. On other surety none: freely we serve, because we freely love.
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Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round
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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.
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In vain doth valour bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.
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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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Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
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Let none admire that riches grow in hell that soil may best deserve the precious bane.
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Wisdom's self oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, where with her best nurse Contemplation, she plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings that in the various bustle of resort were all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired.
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Biochemically, love is just like eating large amounts of chocolate.
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