Lord Byron Quotes
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Were't the last drop in the well,As I gasp'd upon the brink,Ere my fainting spirit fell'T is to thee that I would drink.
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A sort of hostile transaction, very necessary to keep the world going, but by no means a sinecure to the parties concerned.
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Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art, For there thy habitation is the heart –The heart which love of thee alone can bind; And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd – To fetters and damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom.
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Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so, Not for thy faults, but mine.
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What's drinking?A mere pause from thinking!
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He left a corsair's name to other times,Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.
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O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper, which makes bank credit like a bark of vapour.
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What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
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Better to err with Pope, than shine with Pye.
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What say you to such a supper with such a woman?
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I doubt sometimes whether a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me - yet I sometimes long for it.
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When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past-For years fleet away with the wings of the dove- The dearest remembrance will still be the last,Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
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I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.
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Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one's right; and when one's wrong They smile still more.
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Despair and Genius are too oft connected.
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I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse - borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne - misplaced in life. I know not what I could have been, but feel I am not what I should be - let it end.
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Not to admire, is all the art I know To make men happy, or to keep them so. Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago; And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach From his translation; but had none admired, Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired?
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For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.
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The Cardinal is at his wit's end - it is true that he had not far to go.
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So, we'll go no more a rovingSo late into the night,Though the heart be still as loving,And the moon be still as bright.
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Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
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So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
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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.
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This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.