Zitate von John Milton
Ein bekanntes Zitat von John Milton:
Wahre Beredsamkeit aber, finde ich, ist nichts anderes als die ernste und herzliche Liebe zur Wahrheit.
Informationen über John Milton
Literat, Gelehrter, Pädagoge, Dichter (England, 1608 - 1674).
John Milton · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum
John Milton wäre heute 415 Jahre, 4 Monate, 17 Tage oder 151.714 Tage alt.
Geboren am 09.12.1608 in London
Gestorben am 08.11.1674 in London
Sternzeichen: ♐ Schütze
Unbekannt
Weitere 390 Zitate von John Milton
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A dungeon horrible, on all sides round As one great furnace flamed, yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest cannever dwell, hope never comes That comes to all.
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A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.
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A grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged.
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A man may be ungrateful, but the human race is not so.
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Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, Which men call earth.
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Adam, the goodliest man of men since born His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.
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Against the threats Of malice or of sorcery, or that power Which erring men call chance, this I hold firm, Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled.
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Alas! What boots it with uncessant care To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless muse; Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorrèd shears, And slits the thin-spun life.
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All is best, though we oft doubt, What the unsearchable dispose Of highest wisdom brings about, And ever best found in the close.
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All seemed well pleased, all seemed, but were not all.
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An old and haughty nation proud in arms.
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And add to these retirèd Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
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And as an evening dragon came, Assailant on the perchèd roosts, And nests in order ranged Of tame villatic fowl.
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And by her yielded, by him bestreceived, Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet reluctant amorous delay.
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And filled the air with barbarous dissonance.
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And hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.
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And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.
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And love the high embowèd roof, With antique pillars' massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced quire below, In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heaven before mine eyes.
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And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green, To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way; And oft, as if her headshe bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
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And out of good still to find means of evil.