John Milton (born 9 December 1608, Bread Street, Cheapside, London, England – died 8 November 1674, Bunhill, London, England) was an English poet, polemicist, man of letters, and intellectual who wrote during a period of political and religious turmoil. He served as a civil servant for the Commonwealth of England under its Council of State and later under Oliver Cromwell. John Milton is best known for his epic poem Paradise Lost (1667), written in blank verse.
The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world. What hath night to do with sleep? Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity. He who destroys a good book kills reason itself. For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them. He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king. Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven. Solitude sometimes is best society. There is nothing that making men rich and strong but that which they carry inside of them. True wealth is of the heart, not of the hand.
When we speak of knowing God, it must be understood with reference to man's limited powers of comprehension. God, as He really is, is far beyond man's imagination, let alone understanding. God has revealed only so much of Himself as our minds can conceive and the weakness of our nature can bear.
John Milton Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light. Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost. Freely we serve, Because we freely love, as in our will To love or not; in this we stand or fall. To be blind is not miserable; not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable. Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n. I will not deny but that the best apology against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and honest deeds set against dishonest words. Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss. Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep... All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield. They also serve who only stand and wait. Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties. Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk. Luck is the residue of design. The stars, that nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps with everlasting oil, give due light to the misled and lonely traveller. Fear of change perplexes monarchs. Me miserable! Which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep, Still threat’ning to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to life beyond life. In those vernal seasons of the year when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth. Let us go forth and resolutely dare with sweat of brow to toil our little day. Farewell Hope, and with Hope farewell Fear. Good, the more communicated, more abundant grows. Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good.
There is no learned man but will confess he hath much profited by reading controversies; his senses awakened, his judgment sharpened, and the truth which he holds more firmly established. In logic they teach that contraries laid together more evidently appear; and controversy being permitted, falsehood will appear more false, and truth more true.
John Milton Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe. No institution which does not continually test its ideals, techniques and measure of accomplishment can claim real vitality. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie. For what can war, but endless war, still breed? They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness. Truth never comes into the world but like a bastard, to the ignominy of him that brought her birth. He who freely magnifies what hath been nobly done, and fears not to declares as freely what might be done better, gives ye the best covenant of his fidelity. Ofttimes nothing profits more than self-esteem, grounded on just and right well manag’d. What is strength without a double share of wisdom? Strength’s not made to rule, but to subserve, where wisdom bears command. To know that which lies before us in daily life is the prime wisdom. A man may be ungrateful, but the human race is not so. Most men admire virtue, who follow not her lore. Much remains to conquer still; peace hath her victories no less renowned than war. The pious and just honoring of ourselves may be thought the fountainhead from whence every laudable and worthy enterprise issues forth. He that studieth revenge keepeth his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well. Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown in courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, where most may wonder at the workmanship. No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free. The superior man acquaints himself with many sayings of antiquity and many deeds of the past, in order to strengthen his character thereby. True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves. When complaints are freely heard, deeply considered and speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of civil liberty attained that wise men look for. Let not England forget her precedence of teaching nations how to live. Deep-versed in books and shallow in himself. He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon. Virtue could see to do what Virtue would by her own radiant light, though sun and moon where in the flat sea sunk. Though we take from a covetous man all his treasure, he has yet one jewel left; you cannot bereave him of his covetousness. You can make hell out of heaven and heaven out of hell. It's all in the mind.