Lord Byron Quotes
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Talent may be in time forgiven, but genius never.
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Old man! ’tis not so difficult to die.
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As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
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Who track the steps of glory to the grave.
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For a man to become a poet (witness Petrarch and Dante), he must be in love, or miserable.
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When we two partedIn silence and tears,Half brokenhearted,To sever for years.
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Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.
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The cold, the changed, perchance the dead, anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost,-too many, yet how few!
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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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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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I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
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A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.
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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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Seek out - less often sought than found -A Soldier's Grave, for thee the best;Then look around and choose thy Ground,And take thy Rest.
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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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I cannot describe to you the despairing sensation of trying to do something for a man who seems incapable or unwilling to do anything further for himself.
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You are the fools, not I - for I did dwell With a deep thought, and with a softened eye, On that Old Sexton's natural homily, In which there was Obscurity and Fame, The Glory and the Nothing of a Name.
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That which I am, I am; I did not seekFor life, nor did I make myself.
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What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper: Some liken it to climbing up a hill, Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour: For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper," To have, when the original is dust, A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.
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A good coach encourages the same type of resilience in the people they work with. They encourage them to take risks. If the risk results in failure, they help all people to learn from the mistake and then go on to try another way.
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Kill a man's family, and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.
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All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
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The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
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Of religion I know nothing -- at least, in its favor.