Lord Byron Quotes
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The cold in clime are cold in blood, Their love can scarce deserve the name.
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Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt, Not practise!
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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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Curiosity kills itself; and love is only curiosity, as is proved by its end.
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A drop of ink may make a million think.
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Time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn, some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.
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The Christian has greatly the advantage of the unbeliever, having everything to gain and nothing to lose.
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And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.
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I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long - such a strange melange of good and evil.
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Thy decay's still impregnate with divinity.
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Happiness was born a twin.
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I have not loved the World, nor the World me; I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed To its idolatries a patient knee, Nor coined my cheek to smiles,-nor cried aloud In worship of an echo.
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This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
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And wrinkles, the damned democrats, won't flatter.
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As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
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What makes a regiment of soldiers a more noble object of view than the same mass of mob? Their arms, their dresses, their banners, and the art and artificial symmetry of their position and movements.
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That which I am, I am; I did not seekFor life, nor did I make myself.
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Shrine of the mighty! can it beThat this is all remains of thee?
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I am not now That which I have been.
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The poor dog, in life the firmest friend,The first to welcome, foremost to defend.
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I speak not of men's creeds—they rest between Man and his Maker.
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Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded. That all the Apostles would have done as they did.
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He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
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There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in, Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.