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For books are as meats and viands are some of good, some of evil sub-stance.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Books
Evil
Book
Good
Meats
Stance
Meat

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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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Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell, By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale.
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The nodding horror of whose shady brows Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.
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Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works.
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Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round
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Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burden.
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O welcome pure-eyed Faith, white handed Hope, Thou hovering angel girt with golden 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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Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
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Hide me from day's garish eye.
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Those whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme
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Reason is also choice.
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A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all but torture without end.
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In argument with men a woman ever Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.
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No mighty trance, or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
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The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
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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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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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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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Arm the obdured breast with stubborn patience as with triple steel.
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