“What if earth Be but the shadow of heaven, and things therein Each to other like, more than on earth is thought?” John Milton
“Flesh of flesh, Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.” John Milton
“Her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she ate: Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe That all was lost.” John Milton
“Truth…never comes into the world, but like a bastard, to the ignominy of him that brought her forth.” John Milton
“I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.” John Milton
