Lord Byron Quotes
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Never to talk to ones self is a form of hypocrisy.
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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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Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people.
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Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
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They say that Hope is happiness But genuine Love must prize the past; And Mem'ry wakes the thoughts that bless: They rose first – they set the last. And all that mem'ry loves the most Was once our only hope to be: And all that hope adored and lost Hath melted into memory. Alas! It is delusion all – The future cheats us from afar: Nor can we be what we recall, Nor dare we think on what we are.
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Go let thy less than woman's hand Assume the distaff not the brand.
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Perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save.
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If I could always read, I should never feel the want of company.
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Shakespeare's name, you may depend on it, stands absurdly too high and will go down.
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Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?
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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.
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Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!
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The power of thought,-the magic of the mind!
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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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War, war is still the cry,-"war even to the knife!"
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But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much, as when we call our old debts in At sixty years, and draw the accounts of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil.
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I awoke one day to find myself famous.
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Jealousy dislikes the world to know it.
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And the commencement of atonement is the sense of its necessity.
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My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea.
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But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.
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Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylæ!
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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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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.