John Milton Sin Quotations

The rising world of waters dark and deep.

Law can discover sin, but not remove, Save by those shadowy expiations weak.

Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul And lap it in Elysium.

Th'invention all admir'd, and each, how he to be th'inventor miss'd; so easy it seem'd once found, which yet unfound most would have thought impossible.

Laws can discover sin, but not remove it

Death from sin no power can separate.

Vanity is definitely my favorite sin.

Among the writers of all ages, some deserve fame, and have it; others neither have nor deserve it; some have it, not deserving it; others, though deserving it, yet totally miss it, or have it not equal to their deserts.

To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise.

A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.

Man's disobedience) brought into this World a world of woe, Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, Death's Harbinger

Oft, on a plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off curfew sound Over some wide-watered shore, Swinging low with sullen roar.

So many laws argues so many sins.

How often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note, Singing their great Creator?

Govern well thy appetite, lest Sin surprise thee, and her black attendant Death.

Servant of God, well done, well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintain'd Against revolted multitudes the Cause Of Truth, in word mightier than they in Arms; And for the testimony of Truth hast borne Universal reproach, far worse

Since first this subject for heroic song / Pleased me long choosing, and beginning late.

A poet soaring in the high region of his fancies with his garland and singing robes about him.

More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged / To hoarse or mute though fall'n on evil days, / On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues; / In darkness, and with dangers compassed round, / And solitude.

Into a Limbo large and broad, since called / The paradise of fools, to few unknown.