Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.
The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
Farewell happy fields, where joy forever dwells! Hail horrors! Hail infernal world!
Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.
Awake, arise, or be forever fallen.
Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe.
To be weak is miserable.
The mind is its own place and, in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
Abashed the Devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss.
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell: Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.
So little knows any, but God alone, to value right the good before him.
The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
All is not lost; the unconquerable Will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and courage never to submit or yield.
Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, and robes the mountain in its azure hue.
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp.
Solitude sometimes is best society.
The loss of sight is in a manner the loss of touch.
Eternal vengeance, fiery rod! His own creations, he, and not the tempter, had o’erthrown.
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread.
More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged.
Paradise Lost Quotes – Immortal Verses that Illuminate the Epic Tragedy part 2
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the Earth unseen.
His form had yet not lost all her original brightness.
That I did not fall in Adam’s fall.
A mind not to be changed by Place or Time.
The World was all before them, where to choose their place of rest.
The tempter all his wiles had tried.
To scrape the icing, and to taste the cake!
Whence and what art thou, execrable Shape?
Devil with devil damned firm concord holds.
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved.
So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, farewell remorse: all good to me is lost.
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.
Faithful found among the faithless none.
Now conscience wakes despair that slumbered.
Such ambush hid among sweet flowers and shades.
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar stood ruled.
Let none admire, that riches grow in Hell.
That wisdom infinite must form the best.
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout.
Rather than be less, cared not to be at all.
Man’s first disobedience.
To be weak is miserable.
What though the field be lost?
Wisdom’s self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude.
Evil into the mind of god or Man may come and go, so unapproved, and leave no spot or blame behind.
Be First to Comment