#johnmilton — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #johnmilton, aggregated by home.social.
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Satan, nyss nedstörtad i helvetet efter sitt uppror mot Gud, samlar sina fallna änglar för att rådgöra vad som bör göras. Ett nytt anfall av himlen eller kanske be om nåd?
Då det ryktas om att Gud planerar en ny skapelse smids så planen; Satan färdas genom Kaos fram till Jorden för att korrumpera de nya varelserna.
I hans spår följer hans två barn, Döden och Synd, och bygger en bred och bekväm väg.Svinbra den här.
"Långt hellre djupens kung än slav i himmelen!"
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Satan, nyss nedstörtad i helvetet efter sitt uppror mot Gud, samlar sina fallna änglar för att rådgöra vad som bör göras. Ett nytt anfall av himlen eller kanske be om nåd?
Då det ryktas om att Gud planerar en ny skapelse smids så planen; Satan färdas genom Kaos fram till Jorden för att korrumpera de nya varelserna.
I hans spår följer hans två barn, Döden och Synd, och bygger en bred och bekväm väg.Svinbra den här.
"Långt hellre djupens kung än slav i himmelen!"
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Buckinghamshire, c.1920 - Coles RP Postcard
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Buckinghamshire, c.1920 - Coles RP Postcard
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An AI version of Milton’s Paradise Lost is fundamentally unworthy of one of the great works of art https://www.theguardian.com/film/2026/may/05/ai-paradise-lost-fundamentally-unworthy-roger-avary #Film #Culture #AiArtificialIntelligence #JohnMilton #Books #Computing #Technology
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An AI version of Milton’s Paradise Lost is fundamentally unworthy of one of the great works of art https://www.theguardian.com/film/2026/may/05/ai-paradise-lost-fundamentally-unworthy-roger-avary #Film #Culture #AiArtificialIntelligence #JohnMilton #Books #Computing #Technology
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Belial Speaks…
This is an excerpt from Book 2 of Paradise Lost by John Milton. Belial (a fallen angel) is speaking at a “Consultation” held in Pandemonium chaired by Satan (i.e. a meeting of the local Governing Authority):
I should be much for open war, O Peers,
As not behind in hate, if what was urged
Main reason to persuade immediate war
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast
Ominous conjecture on the whole success;
When he who most excels in fact of arms,
In what he counsels and in what excels
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter dissolution, as the scope
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
First, what revenge? The towers of Heaven are filled
With armed watch, that render all access
Impregnable: oft on the bordering Deep
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of Night,
Scorning surprise. Or, could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
With blackest insurrection to confound
Heaven’s purest light, yet our great Enemy,
All incorruptible, would on his throne
Sit unpolluted, and th’ ethereal mould,
Incapable of stain, would soon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th’ Almighty Victor to spend all his rage;
And that must end us; that must be our cure—
To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated Night,
Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry Foe
Can give it, or will ever? How he can
Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
Belike through impotence or unaware,
To give his enemies their wish, and end
Them in his anger whom his anger saves
To punish endless? “Wherefore cease we, then?”
Say they who counsel war; “we are decreed,
Reserved, and destined to eternal woe;
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
What can we suffer worse?” Is this, then, worst—
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What when we fled amain, pursued and struck
With Heaven’s afflicting thunder, and besought
The Deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.
What if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage,
And plunge us in the flames; or from above
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us? What if all
Her stores were opened, and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps,
Designing or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled,
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey
Or racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains,
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,
Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse.
War, therefore, open or concealed, alike
My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
Views all things at one view? He from Heaven’s height
All these our motions vain sees and derides,
Not more almighty to resist our might
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we, then, live thus vile—the race of Heaven
Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here
Chains and these torments? Better these than worse,
By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The Victor’s will. To suffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust
That so ordains. This was at first resolved,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.
I laugh when those who at the spear are bold
And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear
What yet they know must follow—to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their Conqueror. This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punished; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.
Our purer essence then will overcome
Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel;
Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat; and, void of pain,
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;
Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting—since our present lot appears
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
If we procure not to ourselves more woe.I’ve posted this here not only because it seems topical, but also because it contains a phrase associated with a TV drama series that I’ve been watching on DVD. Feel free to offer a guess of the name of the series through the comments box.
#Belial #JohnMilton #literature #Pandaemonium #ParadiseLost #Poetry #Satan -
Belial Speaks…
This is an excerpt from Book 2 of Paradise Lost by John Milton. Belial (a fallen angel) is speaking at a “Consultation” held in Pandemonium chaired by Satan (i.e. a meeting of the local Governing Authority):
I should be much for open war, O Peers,
As not behind in hate, if what was urged
Main reason to persuade immediate war
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast
Ominous conjecture on the whole success;
When he who most excels in fact of arms,
In what he counsels and in what excels
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter dissolution, as the scope
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
First, what revenge? The towers of Heaven are filled
With armed watch, that render all access
Impregnable: oft on the bordering Deep
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of Night,
Scorning surprise. Or, could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
With blackest insurrection to confound
Heaven’s purest light, yet our great Enemy,
All incorruptible, would on his throne
Sit unpolluted, and th’ ethereal mould,
Incapable of stain, would soon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th’ Almighty Victor to spend all his rage;
And that must end us; that must be our cure—
To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated Night,
Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry Foe
Can give it, or will ever? How he can
Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
Belike through impotence or unaware,
To give his enemies their wish, and end
Them in his anger whom his anger saves
To punish endless? “Wherefore cease we, then?”
Say they who counsel war; “we are decreed,
Reserved, and destined to eternal woe;
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
What can we suffer worse?” Is this, then, worst—
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What when we fled amain, pursued and struck
With Heaven’s afflicting thunder, and besought
The Deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.
What if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage,
And plunge us in the flames; or from above
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us? What if all
Her stores were opened, and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps,
Designing or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled,
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey
Or racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains,
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,
Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse.
War, therefore, open or concealed, alike
My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
Views all things at one view? He from Heaven’s height
All these our motions vain sees and derides,
Not more almighty to resist our might
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we, then, live thus vile—the race of Heaven
Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here
Chains and these torments? Better these than worse,
By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The Victor’s will. To suffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust
That so ordains. This was at first resolved,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.
I laugh when those who at the spear are bold
And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear
What yet they know must follow—to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their Conqueror. This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punished; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.
Our purer essence then will overcome
Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel;
Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat; and, void of pain,
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;
Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting—since our present lot appears
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
If we procure not to ourselves more woe.I’ve posted this here not only because it seems topical, but also because it contains a phrase associated with a TV drama series that I’ve been watching on DVD. Feel free to offer a guess of the name of the series through the comments box.
#Belial #JohnMilton #literature #Pandaemonium #ParadiseLost #Poetry #Satan -
John Milton’s writings—each poetry and prose—are undying of their beauty, energy, and relevance. His works deal with essential questions on faith, freedom, temptation, and the character of properly and evil.
#JohnMilton #poetry #wolink #nevermorepoem
https://www.nevermorepoem.com/archives/24913 -
Paradise Lost
Paradise Regained
- John Milton
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Paradise Lost
Paradise Regained
- John Milton
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Vince is back with our #WeeklyPicks in time for your weekend reading!
𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 ✨
A Book You’ve Been Meaning To Read: The Underground Railroad by #ColsonWhitehead
The Engine House by #RhysDylan ( #DCIEvanWarlow Series)
How We Learn by #StanislasDehaene
The Cleaner by #MarkDawson ( #JohnMilton Series)
The Mothers by #BritBennettRead all of Vince’s picks online at our site. 📚
🔗 Link in Comments #bookstodon
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Vince is back with our #WeeklyPicks in time for your weekend reading!
𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 ✨
A Book You’ve Been Meaning To Read: The Underground Railroad by #ColsonWhitehead
The Engine House by #RhysDylan ( #DCIEvanWarlow Series)
How We Learn by #StanislasDehaene
The Cleaner by #MarkDawson ( #JohnMilton Series)
The Mothers by #BritBennettRead all of Vince’s picks online at our site. 📚
🔗 Link in Comments #bookstodon
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#eBooks - Rogets Thesaurus by Peter Mark Roget -
https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/p/page-34-project-gutenberg.html#87#eBooks - The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass - #FrederickDouglass
https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/p/page-48-project-gutenberg.html#110#eBooks - O Pioneers - #WillaCather
https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/p/page-28-project-gutenberg.html#112#eBooks - The 1991 CIA World Factbook -
https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/p/page-38-project-gutenberg.html#114#eBooks - Paradise Lost - #JohnMilton
https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/p/page-30-project-gutenberg.html#116#eBooks - Far from the Madding Crowd - #ThomasHardy
https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/p/page-41-project-gutenberg.html#118 -
#OmegaTheLastDaysOfTheWorld by #CamilleFlammarion
A poetic 19th-century vision of the distant future and the final days of humanity on a dying Earth. Truly visionary science fiction. ☄️🌍⏳
Read here: https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/2018/07/omega-last-days-of-world-by-camille.html
The epic struggle between Heaven and Hell. Milton’s verse brings the fall of Man and the rebellion of Satan to vivid life. 🍎🐍🔥
Read here: https://kensbookinfo.blogspot.com/2019/03/paradise-lost-by-john-milton.html
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Bucks, c.1910s - HG Stone RP Postcard
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Bucks, c.1910s - HG Stone RP Postcard
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Visiting the Frankenstein exhibition in Selfridge's and they've got a first edition of Paradise Lost on display (among many other cool things). #maryshelley #johnmilton #paradiselost #frankenstein
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#thriller #novel #review #JohnMilton
My review of the novel "The Driver" by Mark Dawson
https://english.netmassimo.com/2025/09/04/the-driver-by-mark-dawson/
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This part really stuck with me while doing an immersive read of Paradise Lost tonight.
@bookstodon @reading #classiclit #ClassicLiterature #fiction #johnmilton #literature
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'O, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!'
– MILTONExcerpt From
Daniel Deronda
George Eliot"The epigraph reflects the importance of maintaining faith and hope during moments of moral or emotional trial."
#danieDeronda #georgeEliot #milton #johnmilton #books #bookstodon #faith #hope #morality #ethics
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🔴 📖 🎥 **The HARDEST BOOK I Ever Read and ... How ANYONE Can Read It**
Rob Pirie - The Cause
_“The poem is written in blank verse in iambic pentameter. The poem makes music when read correctly which allows the poem to have a charm and enchantment I have never experienced in any other book.”_
#Video length: six minutes and forty-three seconds.
🔗 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFikiP4g-f8
#English #Poetry #Literature #JohnMilton #Milton #Read #Reading #Book #Books #Bookstodon @poetry @literature @bookstodon
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#thriller #JohnMilton My review of the novel "The Cleaner" by Mark Dawson
https://english.netmassimo.com/2024/12/19/the-cleaner-by-mark-dawson/
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The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
-- John Milton -
« O welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings! »― John Milton
🔗 · https://poligraf.tumblr.com/post/730383539877593088/o-welcome-pure-eyed-faith-white-handed-hope
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« For God will deign
To visit oft the dwellings of just men
Delighted, and with frequent intercourse
Thither will send his winged messengers
On errants of supernal grace. »― John Milton
🔗 · https://poligraf.tumblr.com/post/729757102873231360/for-god-will-deign-to-visit-oft-the-dwellings-of
#quotes #JohnMilton #WingedMessengers #DivineIntelligence #grace
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« And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow,
To the full-voiced choir below,
In service high, and anthems clear
As may, with sweetness, through mine ear
Dissolve me into ecstasies,
And bring all heaven before mine eyes. »― John Milton
🔗 · https://poligraf.tumblr.com/post/729120944298311680/and-storied-windows-richly-dight-casting-a-dim
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« O welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings! »― John Milton
🔗 · https://poligraf.tumblr.com/post/730383539877593088/o-welcome-pure-eyed-faith-white-handed-hope
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« For God will deign
To visit oft the dwellings of just men
Delighted, and with frequent intercourse
Thither will send his winged messengers
On errants of supernal grace. »― John Milton
🔗 · https://poligraf.tumblr.com/post/729757102873231360/for-god-will-deign-to-visit-oft-the-dwellings-of
#quotes #JohnMilton #WingedMessengers #DivineIntelligence #grace