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Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Heaven
Read
Book
Wherein
Wondrous
Thee
Works

More quotes by John Milton

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Nor from hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place.
John Milton
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Servant of God, well done! well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintain'd Against revolted multitudes the cause of truth.
John Milton
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And yet on the other hand unless warinesse be us'd, as good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book who kills a Man kills a reasonable creature, Gods Image, but hee who destroyes a good Booke, kills reason it selfe, kills the Image of God, as it were in the eye.
John Milton
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But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
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For to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.
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Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
John Milton
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Hail holy light, offspring of heav'n firstborn!
John Milton
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The never-ending flight Of future days.
John Milton
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Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.
John Milton
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Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life.
John Milton
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Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.
John Milton
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Aristotle ... imputed this symphony of the heavens ... this music of the spheres to Pythagorus. ... But Pythagoras alone of mortals is said to have heard this harmony ... If our hearts were as pure, as chaste, as snowy as Pythagoras' was, our ears would resound and be filled with that supremely lovely music of the wheeling stars.
John Milton
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The nodding horror of whose shady brows Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.
John Milton
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Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
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O Conscience, into what abyss of fears And horrors hast thou driven me, out of which I find no way, from deep to deeper plunged.
John Milton
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Fear of change perplexes monarchs.
John Milton
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Fairy elves, Whose midnight revels by a forest side Or fountain some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress.
John Milton
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Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls his watery labyrinth, which whoso drinks forgets both joy and grief.
John Milton
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And now the herald lark Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry The morn's approach, and greet her with his song.
John Milton
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Hail, wedded love, mysterious law true source of human happiness.
John Milton