Quote

Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them....I know they are as lively and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragon's teeth and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Books
Censorship
Censoring
Chance
Fabulous
Sown
May
Productive
Potency
Book
Burning
Dragon
Things
Teeth
Lively
Men
Absolutely
Dragons
Life
Spring
Contain
Dead
Armed
Vigorously

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Ornate rhetorick taught out of the rule of Plato.... To which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, as being less suttle and fine, but more simple, sensuous, and passionate.
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So dear I love him, that with him, all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life.
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As in an organ from one blast of wind To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes.
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Therefore God's universal law Gave to the man despotic power Over his female in due awe, Not from that right to part an hour, Smile she or lour.
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Our state cannot be severed, we are one, One flesh to lose thee were to lose myself.
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O fairest of creation, last and best Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, Defaced, deflow'red, and now to death devote? Paradise Lost
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From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.
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Hate is of all things the mightiest divider, nay, is division itself. To couple hatred, therefore, though wedlock try all her golden links, and borrow to tier aid all the iron manacles and fetters of law, it does but seek to twist a rope of sand.
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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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Impostor do not charge most innocent Nature, As if she would her children should be riotous With her abundance she, good cateress, Means her provision only to the good, That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of spare temperance.
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Our torments also may in length of time Become our Elements.
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These evils I deserve, and more . . . . Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and his eye Gracious to re-admit the suppliant.
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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
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With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
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God sure esteems the growth and completing of one virtuous person, more that the restraint of ten vicious.
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Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
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Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements, these piercing fires As soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper.
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God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest They also serve who only stand and wait.
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But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return!
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Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.
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