The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven...
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell
Who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe
Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n
All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield
Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep...
I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to reascend...
Me miserable! Which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep,
Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven
Seized us, though undismayed: long is the way
And hard, that out of hell leads up to light;
Our prison strong, this huge convex of fire
Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light
They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld
Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,
Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate
With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms:
Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide;
They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.
Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven
"THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS IS A GENTLEMAN"
(King Lear: Act 3 Scene 4)
