John Milton II

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. . .

Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven.

Solitude sometimes is best society.

What hath night to do with sleep?

Farewell Hope, and with Hope farewell Fear.

All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield.

Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost.

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stol'n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!

Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.

The stars, that nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps with everlasting oil, give due light to the misled and lonely traveler.

For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.