Lord Byron Quotes
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O ye! who teach the ingenious youth of nations, Holland, France, England, Germany or Spain, I pray ye flog them upon all occasions, It mends their morals, never mind the pain.
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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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Tis sweet to listen as the night winds creep From leaf to leaf.
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And life 's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
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...And these vicissitudes come best in youth; For when they happen at a riper age, People are apt to blame the Fates, forsooth, And wonder Providence is not more sage. Adversity is the first path to truth: He who hath proved war, storm, or woman's rage, Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty, Has won experience which is deem'd so weighty.
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Our life is two fold Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality.
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Sleep hath its own world, and the wide realm of wild reality.
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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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A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
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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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One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer.
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A thousand years may scare form a state. An hour may lay it in ruins.
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For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.
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To withdraw myself from myself has ever been my sole, my entire, my sincere motive in scribbling at all.
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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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Keep thy smooth words and juggling homilies for those who know thee not.
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Go let thy less than woman's hand Assume the distaff not the brand.
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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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Tyranny is for the worst of treasons.
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The power of thought,-the magic of the mind!
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I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.
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It is by far the most elegant worship, hardly excepting the Greek mythology. What with incense, pictures, statues, altars, shrines, relics, and the real presence, confession, absolution, - there is something sensible to grasp at. Besides, it leaves no possibility of doubt; for those who swallow their Deity, really and truly, in transubstantiation, can hardly find any thing else otherwise than easy of digestion.
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Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?
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We of the craft are all crazy.