Lord Byron Quotes
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The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before; The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need Of aid from them-She was the Universe.
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And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep.
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I have not loved the world, nor the world me, but let us part fair foes; I do believe, though I have found them not, that there may be words which are things, hopes which will not deceive, and virtues which are merciful, or weave snares for the failing: I would also deem o'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; that two, or one, are almost what they seem, that goodness is no name, and happiness no dream.
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So do the dark in soul expire, Or live like scorpion girt by fire; So writhes the mind remorse hath riven, Unfit for earth, undoom'd for heaven, Darkness above, despair beneath, Around it flame, within it death.
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Adversity is the first path to truth.
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My days are in the yellow leaf;The flowers and fruits of Love are gone;The worm - the canker, and the griefAre mine alone!
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Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No," And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow, Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.
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I would rather have a nod from an American, than a snuff- box from an emperor.
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Friendship is Love without his wings!
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History - the devil's scripture...
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Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.
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It is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
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Eat, drink and love...the rest is not worth a nickel.
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There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell. But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!
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The great object of life is Sensation - to feel that we exist - even though in pain - it is this "craving void" which drives us to gaming - to battle - to travel - to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.
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There's music in the sighing of a reed; There's music in the gushing of a rill; There's music in all things, if men had ears; The earth is but the music of the spheres.
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When people say, "I've told you fifty times," They mean to scold, and very often do; When poets say, "I've written fifty rhymes," They make you dread that they'll recite them too; In gangs of fifty, thieves commit their crimes; At fifty love for love is rare, 't is true, but then, no doubt, it equally as true is, a good deal may be bought for fifty Louis.
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No hand can make the clock strike for me the hours that are passed.
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Knowledge is not happiness, and science But an exchange of ignorance for that Which is another kind of ignorance.
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The dust we tread upon was once alive.
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What deep wounds ever closed without a scar? The hearts bleed longest, and heals but to wear That which disfigures it.
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Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the mostMust mourn the deepest o’er the fatal truth,The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life.
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The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, and feel for what their duty bids them do.
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Self praise is no praise at all.