Lord Byron Quotes
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Tis said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others.
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A mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree, you are lovers; and when it is over, anything but friends.
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He who is only just is cruel; who Upon the earth would live were all judged justly?
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What a strange thing is man! And what a stranger is woman.
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Let joy be unconfined.
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It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. A year impairs, a luster obliterates. There is little distinct left without an effort of memory, then indeed the lights are rekindled for a moment - but who can be sure that the Imagination is not the torch-bearer?
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For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.
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Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?
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All tragedies are finished by a death, All comedies are ended by a marriage.
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A material resurrection seems strange and even absurd except for purposes of punishment, and all punishment which is to revenge rather than correct must be morally wrong, and when the World is at an end, what moral or warning purpose can eternal tortures answer?
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There is no passion, more spectral or fantastical than hate, not even its opposite, love, so peoples air, with phantoms, as this madness of the heart.
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I have no consistency, except in politics; and that probably arises from my indifference to the subject altogether.
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A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
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Tyranny is for the worst of treasons.
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So bright the tear in Beauty's eye, Love half regrets to kiss it dry.
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Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
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O thou beautiful And unimaginable ether! and Ye multiplying masses of increased And still increasing lights! what are ye? what Is this blue wilderness of interminable Air, where ye roll along, as I have seen The leaves along the limpid streams of Eden? Is your course measur'd for ye? Or do ye Sweep on in your unbounded revelry Through an aerial universe of endless Expansion,--at which my soul aches to think,-- Intoxicated with eternity.
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A quiet conscience makes one so serene.
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'Tis solitude should teach us how to die; It hath no flatterers; vanity can give, No hollow aid; alone - man with God must strive.
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I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who had died with them. Is not this odd? They go the very first things in youth and yet last the longest in the dust.