Best John Milton Qoutes
- And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon. Bigness
- Or if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her. Feeble
- The work under our labour grows, Luxurious by restraint. Grows
- His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power. Backward
- But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return! Art
- A bevy of fair women. Bevy
- The conquer'd, also, and enslaved by war, Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose. All
- The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear. Adam
- He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay. Doric
- Th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat… Baser
- They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy. Communion
- Such joy ambition finds. Ambition
- Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings. Add
- Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain. Attain
- Execute their airy purposes. Airy
- Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate Funny
- It is not good for man to be alone. Hitherto all things [in Genesis] that have been named, were approved of God to be very… All
- Indu'd With sanctity of reason. Inspirational
- But all was false and hollow; though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash… All
- A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him. Fancies
- More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues. Days
- Immediate are the acts of God, more swift than time or motion. Acts
- Those whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme Equalled
- Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night? Cloud
- From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging. Alone
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