Quote

My mansion is, where those immortal shapes Of bright aerial spirits live insphered In regions mild of calm and serene air, Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call Earth.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Calm
Spirits
Shapes
Spot
Aerial
Air
Regions
Mansion
Call
Immortal
Mansions
Spirit
Spots
Mild
Earth
Bright
Stir
Live
Flight
Serene
Men
Smoke
Aviation

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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.
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My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
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Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
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Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony.
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There swift return Diurnal, merely to officiate light Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot.
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Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life.
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Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves.
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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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We shall sooner have the fowl by hatching the egg than by smashing it. Abraham Lincoln, White House speech 11 April 1865. Or arm th' obdured breast With stubborn patience as with triple steel.
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What if Earth be but the shadow of Heaven and things therein - each other like, more than on Earth is thought?
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Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
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Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine.
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Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round
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Eloquence the soul, song charms the senses.
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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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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
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Zeal and duty are not slow But on occasion's forelock watchful wait.
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And the earth self-balanced on her centre hung.
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Thence to the famous orators repair, Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence Wielded at will that fierce democratie, Shook the arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece, To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne.
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