Lord Byron Quotes
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Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
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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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He was a man of his times. with one virtue and a thousand crimes.
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Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.
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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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What say you to such a supper with such a woman?
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And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.
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Armenian is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it.
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For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.
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Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
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Better to err with Pope, than shine with Pye.
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Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one's right; and when one's wrong They smile still more.
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And lovelier things have mercy shownTo every failing but their own,And every woe a tear can claimExcept an erring sister's shame.
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I'll publish right or wrong:Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
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So we'll go no more a-roving So late into the night, Though the heart still be as loving, And the moon still be as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul outwears the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a-roving By the light of the moon.
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Hatred is the madness of the heart.
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Come what may, I have been blest.
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Shrine of the mighty! can it beThat this is all remains of thee?
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The heart ran o'erWith silent worship of the great of old! The dead but sceptred sovereigns, who still ruleOur spirits from their urns.
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Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.
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Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.
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BecauseHe is all-powerful, must all-good, too, follow?I judge but by the fruits-and they are bitter-Which I must feed on for a fault not mine.
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Whate'erI may have been, or am, doth rest betweenHeaven and myself; I shall not choose a mortalTo be my mediator.
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Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure, there is no sterner moralist than pleasure.