Lord Byron Quotes
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Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
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Nothing so difficult as a beginning In poesy, unless perhaps the end.
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And those who saw, it did surprise, Such drops could fall from human eyes.
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Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his main – spring of Mind. But God help us all! It is at present a sad jar of atoms.
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It is not one man nor a million, but the spirit of liberty that must be preserved. The waves which dash upon the shore are, one by one, broken, but the ocean conquers nevertheless. It overwhelms the Armada, it wears out the rock. In like manner, whatever the struggle of individuals, the great cause will gather strength.
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To have joy, one must share it.
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Like to the apples on the Dead Sea's shore, All ashes to the taste.
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By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies.
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The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.
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Liberty - eternal spirit of the chainless mind...
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Sometimes we are less unhappy in being deceived by those we love, than in being undeceived by them.
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Good work and joyous play go hand in hand. When play stops, old age begins. Play keeps you from taking life too seriously.
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Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipeWhen tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe; Like other charmers, wooing the caressMore dazzlingly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by farThy naked beauties-give me a cigar!
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There is something to me very softening in the presence of a woman, some strange influence, even if one is not in love with them, which I cannot at all account for, having no very high opinion of the sex. But yet, I always feel in better humor with myself and every thing else, if there is a woman within ken.
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What a strange thing is man! And what a stranger is woman.
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Sweet is revenge-especially to women.
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Man marks the earth with ruin - his control stops with the shore.
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One certainly has a soul; but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.
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Nothing so fretful, so despicable as a Scribbler, see what I am, and what a parcel of Scoundrels I have brought about my ears, and what language I have been obliged to treat them with to deal with them in their own way; - all this comes of Authorship.
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Near this spot are deposited the remains of one who possessed beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of man, without his vices. This praise, which would be unmeaning flattery if inscribed over human ashes, is but a just tribute to the memory of Botswain, a dog.