Lord Byron Quotes
But first, on earth as vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent, Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race. There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life, Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse. Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
Lord Byron
Quotes to Explore
Government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the Earth.
Abraham Lincoln
I go where the material is, and I feel like I'm looking for really strong directors. That's the key ingredient. There are some directors I would move the sun and earth for, or stop the rotation of the planets, just to work with them.
Olivia Thirlby
If you really want to know what Middle-earth is based on, it's my wonder and delight in the earth as it is, particularly the natural earth.
J. R. R. Tolkien
The fairest thing in nature, a flower, still has its roots in earth and manure.
D. H. Lawrence
President Obama, like every other leader on Earth, is still going to be looking out for national and economic interests. States don't cease to be states overnight just because they get a great visionary as their new president.
Samantha Power
The human juggernaut is permanently eroding Earth's ancient biosphere.
E. O. Wilson
We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it...
George Eliot
I TiVo 'CSI,' 'CSI: Miami,' 'Grey's Anatomy,' 'Young and The Restless' - my husband hates that one - and that's pretty much it.
Lindsay Davenport
If you would improve, submit to be considered wihout sense and foolish with respect to externals. Wish to be considered to know nothing; and if you shall seem to someone to be a person of importance, distrust yourself.
Epictetus
I will say nothing to an actor that cannot be translated into action.
Elia Kazan
But first, on earth as vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent, Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race. There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life, Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse. Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
Lord Byron