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Time is the subtle thief of youth.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Thief
Thieves
Subtle
Youth
Time
More quotes by John Milton
No mighty trance, or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
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So on this windy sea of land, the Fiend Walked up and down alone bent on his prey.
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Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav'n.
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A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond / Frightened the reign of Chaos and old Night.
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Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
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I call a complete and generous education that which fits a man to perform justly, skillfully, and magnanimously all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war.
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And now without redemption all mankind Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell By doom severe.
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Ink is the blood of the printing-press.
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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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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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How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled!
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Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.
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Where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, for opinion in good men is but knowledge in the making.
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Fate shall yield To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife.
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If there be any difference among professed believers as to the sense of Scripture, it is their duty to tolerate such difference in each other, until God shall have revealed the truth to all.
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Tis chastity, my brother, chastity She that has that is clad in complete steel, And, like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen, May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, No savage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer, Will dare to soil her virgin purity.
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So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease Gathered, not harshly plucked, for death mature: This is old age but then thou must outlive Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change To withered weak and grey.
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On the tawny sands and shelves trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
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Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.
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