Lord Byron Quotes
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For a man to become a poet, he must be in love, or miserable.
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You should have a softer pillow than my heart.
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And then he danced,-all foreigners excel the serious Angels in the eloquence of pantomime;-he danced, I say, right well, with emphasis, and a'so with good sense-a thing in footing indispensable: he danced without theatrical pretence, not like a ballet-master in the van of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentleman.
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She was a form of life and lightThat seen, became a part of sight, And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye, The morning-star of memory! Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fireWith angels shared, by Alla given, To lift from earth our low desire.
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For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
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The careful pilot of my proper woe.
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Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.
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Hatred is the madness of the heart.
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Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.
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Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
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The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.
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Sighing that Nature formed but one such man,And broke the die, in molding Sheridan.
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But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfitTo sink or soar.
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Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
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The castled crag of Drachenfels, Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine.
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For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast.
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Physicians mend or end us, Secundum artem; but although we sneer - In health - when ill we call them to attend us, Without the least propensity to jeer.
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I was accused of every monstrous vice by public rumour and private rancour; my name, which had been a knightly or noble one, was tainted. I felt that, if what was whispered, and muttered, and murmured, was true, I was unfit for England; if false, England was unfit for me.
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And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They have a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being.
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I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters; it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new.
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So sweet the blush of bashfulness, E'en pity scarce can wish it less!
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I cannot help thinking that the menace of Hell makes as many devils as the severe penal codes of inhuman humanity make villains.
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'Twas thine own genius gave the final blow,And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low:So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain,No more through rolling clouds to soar again,View'd his own feather on the fatal dart,And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.
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Are we aware of our obligations to a mob? It is the mob that labor in your fields and serve in your houses - that man your navy, and recruit your army - that have enabled you to defy the world, and can also defy you when neglect and calamity have driven them to despair. You may call the people a mob; but do not forget that a mob too often speaks the sentiments of the people.