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But what more oft in Nations grown corrupt, And by thir vices brought to servitude, Than to love Bondage more than Liberty, Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty;
John Milton
He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the center, 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.
The happy place Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy -- Rather inflames thy torment, representing Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable; So never more in Hell than when in Heaven.
A grateful mind by owing owes not, but still pays, at once indebted and discharged; what burden then?
While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, Between us two let there be peace, both joining, As joined in injuries, and enmity Against a foe by doom express assigned us, That cruel serpent.
From morn to noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, a summer's day; and with the setting sun dropped from the zenith like a falling star.
And what is faith, love, virtue unassay'd alone, without exterior help sustained?
Thus it shall befall Him, who to worth in women over-trusting, Lets her will rule: restraint she will not brook; And left to herself, if evil thence ensue She first his weak indulgence will accuse.
Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more.
Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.
Confounded, though immortal. But his doom, reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought both of lost happiness and lasting pain torments him.
That day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awaked, and found myself reposed, Under a shade, on flowers, much wondering where And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
Even the demons are encouraged when their chief is "not lost in loss itself.
Immediate are the acts of God, more swift than time or motion.
The wife, where danger or dishonor lurks, safest and seemliest by her husband stays, who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
And on their naked limbs the flowry roof/Show'r'd Rose, which the Morn repair'd.
Nto this wilde Abyss the warie fiend Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while, Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith He had to cross.
No man [...] can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free, being the image and resemblance of God himself.
But he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself
The childhood shows the man, As morning shows the day.
But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with thee Came not all hell broke loose?
Yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible.
What am I pondering, you ask? So help me God, immortality.
Only supreme in misery!
For Man to tell how human life began is hard; for who himself beginning knew?
A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit"―
The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.
And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.
Part of my soul I seek thee, and claim thee my other half
One sip of this will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, beyond the bliss of dreams.
He left it in thy power, ordaind thy will By nature free, not over-rul'd by Fate Inextricable, or strict necessity;
How oft, in nations gone corrupt, And by their own devices brought down to servitude, That man chooses bondage before liberty. Bondage with ease before strenuous liberty.
Many a man lives a burden to the Earth, but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, imbalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.
Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse in a free and open encounter?
In loving thou dost well, in passion not, Wherein true love consists not: Love refines The thoughts, and heart enlarges; hath his seat In reason, and is judicious
WE know no time when we were not as now..
They changed their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell.
See with what heat these Dogs of Hell advance To waste and havoc yonder World.
So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost;Evil,be thou my good.
And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
The stars, that nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps with everlasting oil, give due light to the misled and lonely traveler".
So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.
Abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is,.....
What is strength without a double share of wisdom?
Neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy, the only evil that walks invisible except to God alone.
Then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess A Paradise within thee, happier far.
So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair that ever since in love's embraces met -- Adam, the goodliest man of men since born his sons; the fairest of her daughters Eve.
Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss.
Our cure, to be no more; sad cure!
What in me is dark Illumine, what is low raise and support, That to the height of this great argument I may assert eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men. 1 Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 22.