| Quote | Author | Send |
 But hail, thou Goddess, sage and holy,
Hail, divinest melancholy,
Whose saintly visage is too bright
To hit the Sense of human sight.
| Milton | 
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But O the heavy change, now thou art gone,
Now thou art gone and never must return ! | Milton |
|
But that twohanded engine at the door
Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. | Milton |
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Come and trip it as ye go,
On the light fantastic toe. | Milton |
|
Death is the golden key that opens the palace of
eternity. | Milton |
|
Hail holy light, offspring of Heav’n firstborn! | Milton |
|
Here we may reign secure; and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell :
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav’n. | Milton |
|
Mortals that would follow me,
Love virtue; she alone is free;
She can teach you how to climb…. | Milton |
|
Mutual love, the crown of all our bliss. | Milton |
|
O nightingale, that on your bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still. | Milton |
|
Peace hath her victories
No less renown’d than war. | Milton |
|
Sweet bird that shunn’st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy !
Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among.
I woo, to hear thy even song. | Milton |
|
That on talent which is death to hide. | Milton |
|
The childhood shows the man,
As morning shows the day. | Milton |
|
The melting voice through mazes running,
Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden soul of harmony. | Milton |
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