Lord Byron Quotes
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No more we meet in yonder bowers Absence has made me prone to roving; But older, firmer hearts than ours, Have found monotony in loving.
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Such hath it been - shall be - beneath the sunThe many still must labour for the one!
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Better to sink beneath the shockThan moulder piecemeal on the rock.
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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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Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange, Although he fleeced the flags of every nation, For into a prime minister but change His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation.
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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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The 'good old times' - all times when old are good -Are gone.
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Champagne with its foaming whirls/As white as Cleopatra's pearls.
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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.
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My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.
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I live,But live to die: and, living, see no thingTo make death hateful, save an innate clinging,A loathsome and yet all invincibleInstinct of life, which I abhor, as IDespise myself, yet cannot overcome-And so I live. Would I had never lived!
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I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.
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Jealousy dislikes the world to know it.
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It is true from early habit, one must make love mechanically as one swims; I was once very fond of both, but now as I never swim unless I tumble into the water, I don't make love till almost obliged.
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Sorrow preys upon Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it From its sad visions of the other world Than calling it at moments back to this. The busy have no time for tears.
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There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.
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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.
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If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
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There are some feelings time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake.
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Talent may be in time forgiven, but genius never.
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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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Ecclesiastes said that "all is vanity," Most modern preachers say the same, or show it By their examples of true Christianity: In short, all know, or very short may know it.
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Here lies interred in the eternity of the past, from whence there is no resurrection for the days - whatever there may be for the dust - the thirty-third year of an ill-spent life, which, after a lingering disease of many months sank into a lethargy, and expired, January 22d, 1821, A.D. leaving a successor inconsolable for the very loss which occasioned its existence.
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My slumbers--if I slumber--are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not: in my heart There is a vigil, and these eyes but close To look within; and yet I live, and bear The aspect and the form of breathing men.