Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.

From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.

The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.

Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand in the sight of God enthroned, our happy state hold, as you yours, while our obedience hold. On other surety none: freely we serve, because we freely love.

What is strength without a double share of wisdom?

I will not deny but that the best apology against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and honest deeds set against dishonest words.

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.