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Whose game was empires and whose stakes were thrones,Whose table earth, whose dice were human bones.
Lord Byron -
Grief should be the instructor of the wise; Sorrow is Knowledge.
Lord Byron
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Fare thee well! and if forever,Still forever, fare thee well:Even though unforgiving, never'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
Lord Byron -
I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me - I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war.
Lord Byron -
Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.
Lord Byron -
When we two partedIn silence and tears,Half brokenhearted,To sever for years.
Lord Byron -
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.
Lord Byron -
She walks the waters like a thing of life,And seems to dare the elements to strife.
Lord Byron
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Old man! ’tis not so difficult to die.
Lord Byron -
O Mirth and Innocence! O milk and water! Ye happy mixtures of more happy days.
Lord Byron -
The art of angling, the cruelest, the coldest and the stupidest of pretended sports.
Lord Byron -
Kill a man's family, and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.
Lord Byron -
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.
Lord Byron -
He had kept The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept.
Lord Byron
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The cold, the changed, perchance the dead, anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost,-too many, yet how few!
Lord Byron -
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.
Lord Byron -
He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
Lord Byron -
Near this spotAre deposited the Remains of oneWho possessed Beauty without Vanity,Strength without Insolence,Courage without Ferocity,And all the virtues of Man, without his Vices.This Praise, which would be unmeaning FlatteryIf inscribed over human ashes,Is but a just tribute to the Memory ofBOATSWAIN, a DOG
Lord Byron -
I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse - borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne - misplaced in life. I know not what I could have been, but feel I am not what I should be - let it end.
Lord Byron -
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.
Lord Byron
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Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber!
Lord Byron -
Accursed be the city where the laws would stifle nature's!
Lord Byron -
Be warm, be pure, be amorous, but be chaste.
Lord Byron -
I am so convinced of the advantages of looking at mankind instead of reading about them, . . . that I think there should be a law amongst us to set our young men abroad for a term among the few allies our wars have left us.
Lord Byron