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The earth, though in comparison of heaven so small, nor glistering, may of solid good contain more plenty than the sun, that barren shines.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Shining
Sun
Small
Barren
Though
Shines
Heaven
Contain
Earth
Solid
May
Comparison
Good
Plenty
More quotes by John Milton
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view.
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Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.
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Nor aught availed him now to have built in heaven high towers nor did he scrape by all his engines, but was headlong sent with his industrious crew to build in hell.
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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Only add Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add faith, Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love, By name to come call'd charity, the soul Of all the rest then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shall possess A Paradise within thee, happier far.
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This manner of writing wherein knowing myself inferior to myself? I have the use, as I may account it, but of my left hand.
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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!
John Milton
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light Besides what hope the never-ending flight Of future days may bring, what chance, what change Worth waiting--since our present lot appears For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, If we procure not to ourselves more woe.
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Where shame is, there is also fear.
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Few sometimes may know, when thousands err.
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Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, in every gesture dignity and love.
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True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
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Love Virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.
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Fear of change perplexes monarchs.
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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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Hell has no benefits, only torture.
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Good luck befriend thee, Son for at thy birth The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.
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I must not quarrel with the will Of highest dispensation, which herein, Haply had ends above my reach to know.
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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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A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, And pavement stars,--as stars to thee appear Seen in the galaxy, that milky way Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest Powder'd with stars.
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