Lord Byron Quotes
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In secret we metIn silence I grieve,That thy heart could forget,Thy spirit deceive.If I should meet theeAfter long years,How should I greet thee?With silence and tears.
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Yet still there whispers the small voice within, Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din; Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
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Egeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast.
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Who killed John Keats?'I,' says the Quarterly,So savage and Tartarly;''Twas one of my feats.'
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Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away.
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The English winter - ending in July to recommence in August.
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Smiles form the channels of a future tear.
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There be none of Beauty's daughtersWith a magic like thee;And like music on the watersIs thy sweet voice to me.
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Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtleAre emblems of deeds that are done in their clime?Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
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Think not I am what I appear.
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The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the Night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
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Self praise is no praise at all.
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If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.
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My boat is on the shore,And my bark is on the sea;But, before I go, Tom Moore.Here's a double health to thee!
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The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the music breathing from her face, 19The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,- And oh, that eye was in itself a soul!
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Hearts will break - yet brokenly, live on.
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We have fools in all sects, and impostors in most; why should I believe mysteries no one can understand, because written by men who chose to mistake madness for inspiration and style themselves Evangelicals?
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Send me no more reviews of any kind. - I will read no more of evil or good in that line. - Walter Scott has not read a review of himself for thirteen years.
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A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them.
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I think the worst woman that ever existed would have made a man of very passable reputation -- they are all better than us and their faults such as they are must originate with ourselves.
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He learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress - or a nunnery.
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Hands promiscuously applied,Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.
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Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
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And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.