Lord Byron Quotes
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Curiosity kills itself; and love is only curiosity, as is proved by its end.
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To what gulfs A single deviation from the track Of human duties leads even those who claim The homage of mankind as their born due, And find it, till they forfeit it themselves!
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Heaven gives its favourites-early death.
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As falls the dew on quenchless sands, blood only serves to wash ambition's hands.
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As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
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Happiness was born a twin.
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My native land, good night!
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Grief should be the instructor of the wise; Sorrow is Knowledge.
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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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I hate all pain, Given or received; we have enough within us The meanest vassal as the loftiest monarch, Not to add to each other's natural burden Of mortal misery.
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The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
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The simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, both by precept and example, shows / That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose.
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This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
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Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.
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There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in, Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.
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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?
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Be warm, be pure, be amorous, but be chaste.
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Roll on, deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin, but his control stops with the shore.
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I speak not of men's creeds—they rest between Man and his Maker.
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I do detest everything which is not perfectly mutual.
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Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean.
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O Mirth and Innocence! O milk and water! Ye happy mixtures of more happy days.
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I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me: and to me High mountains are a feeling, but the hum of human cities torture.
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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.