Lord Byron Quotes
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A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.
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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.
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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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Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it.
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All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
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The dew of compassion is a tear.
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How sweet and soothing is this hour of calm! I thank thee, night! for thou has chased away these horrid bodements which, amidst the throng, I could not dissipate; and with the blessing of thy benign and quiet influence now will I to my couch, although to rest is almost wronging such a night as this.
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Every day confirms my opinion on the superiority of a vicious life, and if Virtue is not its own reward, I don't know any other stipend annexed to it.
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Dreading that climax of all human ills the inflammation of his weekly bills.
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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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None are so desolate but something dear, Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.
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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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All human history attests That happiness for man, - the hungry sinner! - Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.
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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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This sort of adoration of the real is but a heightening of the beau ideal.
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A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
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Books, Manuals, Directives, Regulations. The geometries that circumscribe your working life draw norrower and norrower until nothing fits inside them anymore.
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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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Brisk Confidence still best with woman copes: Pique her and soothe in turn-soon Passion crowns thy hopes.
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Man's love is of man's life a part; it is a woman's whole existence. In her first passion, a woman loves her lover, in all the others all she loves is love.
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Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.
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She walks the waters like a thing of life,And seems to dare the elements to strife.
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I cannot conceive why people will always mix up my own character and opinions with those of the imaginary beings which, as a poet, I have the right and liberty to draw.
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I have imbibed such a love for money that I keep some sequins in a drawer to count, and cry over them once a week.