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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.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Woe
Snakes
Fraud
Root
Roots
Credulous
Tree
Dire
Mother
Snake
Prohibition
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Few sometimes may know, when thousands err.
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Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades High over-arch'd imbower.
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Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
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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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Where all life dies death lives.
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From haunted spring and dale Edg'd with poplar pale The parting genius is with sighing sent.
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Evil, be thou my good.
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To live a life half dead, a living death.
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Our cure, to be no more sad cure!
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Rhime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter...the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.
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No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free.
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You can make hell out of heaven and heaven out of hell. It's all in the mind.
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My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
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Indu'd With sanctity of reason.
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Biochemically, love is just like eating large amounts of chocolate.
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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
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Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
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Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed.
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