Lord Byron Quotes
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So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
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Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.
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O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, 22Survey our empire, and behold our home!These are our realms, no limit to their sway,-Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
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Hope withering fled, and Mercy sighed farewell!
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He was a man of his times. with one virtue and a thousand crimes.
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His heart was one of those which most enamour us,Wax to receive, and marble to retain:He was a lover of the good old school,Who still become more constant as they cool.
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She walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellow'd to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.
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Soprano, basso, even the contra-alto, Wished him five fathom under the Rialto.
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I am as comfortless as a pilgrim with peas in his shoes - and as cold as Charity, Chastity or any other Virtue.
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Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
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What an antithetical mind! - tenderness, roughness - delicacy, coarseness - sentiment, sensuality - soaring and groveling, dirt and deity - all mixed up in that one compound of inspired clay!
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I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.
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Oh! if thou hast at length Discover'd that my love is worth esteem, I ask no more-but let us hence together, And I - let me say we - shall yet be happy. Assyria is not all the earth-we'll find A world out of our own - and be more bless'd Than I have ever been, or thou, with all An empire to indulge thee.
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Besides, they always smell of bread and butter.
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The careful pilot of my proper woe.
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This is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies, and for saving souls. All propagated with the best intentions.
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A great poet belongs to no country; his works are public property, and his Memoirs the inheritance of the public.
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But 'why then publish?' There are no rewards Of fame or profit when the world grows weary. I ask in turn why do you play at cards? Why drink? Why read? To make some hour less dreary. It occupies me to turn back regards On what I've seen or pondered, sad or cheery, And what I write I cast upon the stream To swim or sink. I have had at least my dream.
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I see before me the gladiator lie.
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Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.
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It is not for minds like ours to give or to receive flatter; yet the praises of sincerity have ever been permitted to the voice of friendship.
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This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.
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This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.
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I suppose we shall soon travel by air-vessels; make air instead of sea voyages; and at length find our way to the moon, in spite of the want of atmosphere.