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• Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book ii, Line 105...
• His form had yet not lost All her original brightness, nor appear'd Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess Of glory obscur'd.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book i, Line 591...
• Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book ix, Line 171...
• Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book i, Line 65...
• Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book iii, Line 99...
• Arm th' obdur'd breast With stubborn patience as with triple steel.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book ii, Line 568...
• That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew, Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book iv, Line 122...
• The never-ending flight Of future days.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book ii, Line 221...
• Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades High over-arch'd imbower.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost, Book i, Line 302...