Lord Byron Quotes
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Socrates said, our only knowledge was "To know that nothing could be known;" a pleasant Science enough, which levels to an ass Each Man of Wisdom, future, past, or present. Newton, (that Proverb of the Mind,) alas! Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only "like a youth Picking up shells by the great Ocean-Truth."
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I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting.
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Sighing that Nature formed but one such man,And broke the die, in molding Sheridan.
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As soon seek roses in December, ice in June, Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff Believe a woman or an epitaph Or any other thing that’s false Before you trust in critics.
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There is no such thing as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake, or an eternal fever. Besides, who would ever shave themselves in such a state?
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Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolish'd the right arm Of his own country.
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Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
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Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou? Fond hope of many nations, art thou dead? Could not the grave forget thee, and lay low Some less majestic, less beloved head?
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Armenian is the language to speak with God.
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Yet in my lineaments they traceSome features of my father's face.
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Patience! Hence-that word was madeFor brutes of burthen, not for birds of prey;Preach it to mortals of a dust like thine,-I am not of thine order.
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Marriage, from love, like vinegar from wine – A sad, sour sober beverage – by time Is sharpened from its high celestial flavor Down to a very homely household savor.
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Come what may, I have been blest.
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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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Know ye not who would be free themselves must strike the blow? by their right arms the conquest must be wrought?
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Romances paint at full length people's wooing. But only give a bust of marriages.
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As falls the dew on quenchless sands, blood only serves to wash ambition's hands.
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Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.
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Yet truth will sometimes lend her noblest fires,And decorate the verse herself inspires:This fact, in virtue's name, let Crabbe attest,-Though Nature's sternest painter, yet the best.
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The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.
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A material resurrection seems strange and even absurd except for purposes of punishment, and all punishment which is to revenge rather than correct must be morally wrong, and when the World is at an end, what moral or warning purpose can eternal tortures answer?
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Yet smelt roast meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.
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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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Ancient of days! august Athena! where, Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul? Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were; First in the race that led to glory's goal, They won, and pass'd away--Is this the whole?