Lord Byron Quotes
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A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
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One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer.
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The best prophet of the future is the past.
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I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.
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So bright the tear in Beauty's eye, Love half regrets to kiss it dry.
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Sleep hath its own world, and the wide realm of wild reality.
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We of the craft are all crazy.
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What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.
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Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
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Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.
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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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Fills The air around with beauty.
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And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
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Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire, A million scarce would quench desire; Still would I steep my lips in bliss, And dwell an age on every kiss; Nor then my soul should sated be, Still would I kiss and cling to thee: Nought should my kiss from thine dissever, Still would we kiss and kiss for ever; E'en though the numbers did exceed The yellow harvest's countless seed; To part would be a vain endeavour: Could I desist? -ah! never-never.
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Land of lost gods and godlike men.
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I am no Platonist, I am nothing at all; but I would sooner be a Paulician, Manichean, Spinozist, Gentile, Pyrrhonian, Zoroastrian, than one of the seventy-two villainous sects who are tearing each other to pieces for the love of the Lord and hatred of each other.
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Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay, Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme, Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
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That music in itself, whose sounds are song, The poetry of speech.
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In solitude, when we are least alone.
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I am ashes where once I was fire.
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The poetry of speech.
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We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.
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Opinions are made to be changed or how is truth to be got at?
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Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.