Lord Byron Quotes
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A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
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As the liberty lads o'er the sea Bought their freedom, and cheaply, with blood, So we, boys, we Shall die fighting or live free, And down with all kings but King Ludd!
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Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
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They never fail who dieIn a great cause.
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Then, fare thee well, deceitful Maid!
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He had kept The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept.
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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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Brisk Confidence still best with woman copes: Pique her and soothe in turn-soon Passion crowns thy hopes.
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The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonised the whole — And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!
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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.
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The reason that adulation is not displeasing is that, though untrue, it shows one to be of consequence enough, in one way or other, to induce people to lie.
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In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.
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A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.
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Exhausting thought, And hiving wisdom with each studious year.
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Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please, the more because they preach in vain.
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Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?
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Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear-- In woman's eye the unanswerable tear! That weapon of her weakness she can wield, To save, subdue--at once her spear and shield.
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All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
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Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried.
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In commitment, we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.
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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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Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
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A small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions... think.
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If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.