John Milton

How charming is divine philosophy! Not harsh and crabbèd, as dull fools suppose, but musical as is Apollo's lute.

Against the threats of death, love's fire is proof.

Methought I saw my late espousèd saint brought to me like Alcestis from the grave.

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud not of war only, but of almost universal darkness, hovered over all.

New Presbyter is but old Priest writ large.

A man may be a heretic in the truth; and if he believe things only because his pastor says so, or the assembly so determines, without knowing other reason, though his belief be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy.

Assuredly we bring not these inscriptions to contend with lists, and to walk the streets with, but to try masteries with books.

What does He ask? It is not fierce disdain, nor is it anger, but 'tis that white robe which on the holy hill the prophet rolled in rapturous vision thrice.

The childhood shews the man, as morning shews the day.

Wisest men have erred, and by adversity are driven to wisdom.

To be weak is miserable, doing or suffering.

Knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill.

In solitude, what happiness? Who can enjoy alone, or all enjoying, what contentment find?

The serpent subtlest beast of all the field.

O for that warning voice, which he, who saw the Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud.

Myself am Hell.

Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav'n.

From that day forth these words did spread among the gods.