Him that yon soars on golden wing, guiding the fiery-wheelรจd throne, the Cherub Contemplation.
John MiltonTh' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair.
John MiltonFame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. That last infirmity of noble mind. To scorn delights, and live laborious days.
John MiltonThe very essence of truth is plainness and brightness; the darkness and crookedness is our own. The wisdom of God created understanding, fit and proportionable to truth, the object and end of it, as the eye to the thing visible. If our understanding have a film of ignorance over it, or be blear with gazing on other false glitterings, what is that to truth?
John Milton