Lord Byron Quotes
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I awoke one day to find myself famous.
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Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.
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But stories somehow lengthen when begun.
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A timid mind is apt to mistake every scratch for a mortal wound.
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With flowing tail and flying mane, Wide nostrils never stretched by pain, Mouth bloodless to bit or rein, And feet that iron never shod, And flanks unscar'd by spur or rod, A thousand horses - the wild - the free - Like waves that follow o'er the sea, Came thickly thundering on.
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For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.
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When we two partedIn silence and tears,Half brokenhearted,To sever for years.
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You have to have a passion for your work. How can we expect people to be passionate if you, as their coach, does not have a passion? Coaching has to be something that gives you passion and energy.
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Accursed be the city where the laws would stifle nature's!
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Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;... Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties - give me a cigar!
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What deep wounds ever closed without a scar?
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Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling.
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If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad. As to that regular, uninterrupted love of writing. I do not understand it. I feel it as a torture, which I must get rid of, but never as a pleasure. On the contrary, I think composition a great pain.
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I do not believe in any religion, I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.
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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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They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness.
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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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That low vice, curiosity!
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A small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions... think.
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By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.
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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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How my soul hates This language, Which makes life itself a lie,Flattering dust with eternity.
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To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
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Love rules the camp, the court, the grove - for love is Heaven, and Heaven is love.