Lord Byron Quotes

Nothing so difficult as a beginning In poesy, unless perhaps the end.

Tyranny Is far the worst of treasons. Dost thou deem None rebels except subjects? The prince who Neglects or violates his trust is more A brigand than the robber-chief.

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister

I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters; it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new.

Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.

A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep.

Tis said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others.

The image of Eternity--the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight; Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native land-Good Night!

One certainly has a soul; but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.

Oh! snatched away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year.

Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires The young, makes Weariness forget his toil, And Fear her danger; opens a new world When this, the present, palls.

Man's conscience is the oracle of God.

Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.

A man must serve his time to every trade, Save censure-critics all are ready made. Take hackney'd jokes from Miller, got by rote With just enough learning to misquote.

In solitude, when we are least alone.

Of religion I know nothing -- at least, in its favor.

I awoke one day to find myself famous.

Good but rarely came from good advice.

I am ashes where once I was fire.

History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page.

Though the day of my Destiny 's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.

I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.

Now what I love in women is, they won't Or can't do otherwise than lie, but do it. So well, the very truth seems falsehood to it.

In general I do not draw well with literary men -- not that I dislike them but I never know what to say to them after I have praised their last publication.

Glory, like the phoenix 'midst her fires, Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.

Ecclesiastes said that "all is vanity," Most modern preachers say the same, or show it By their examples of true Christianity: In short, all know, or very short may know it.

The simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, both by precept and example, shows / That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose.

The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.

Well, well, the world must turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, And as the veering winds shift, shift our sails.

With thee all tales are sweet; each clime has charms; earth - sea alike - our world within our arms.

I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women, And pity lovers rather more than seamen.

Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?

A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them.

For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.

Smiles form the channels of a future tear.

Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.

Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.

What a strange thing is man! And what a stranger is woman.

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.

It is when we think we lead that we are most led.

A woman who gives any advantage to a man may expect a lover - but will sooner or later find a tyrant.

Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me, not I them.

I have not loved the world, nor the world me.

I came to realize clearly that the mind is no other than the Mountain and the Rivers and the great wide Earth, the Sun and the Moon and the Sky”.

What is Death, so it be but glorious? 'Tis a sunset; And mortals may be happy to resemble The Gods but in decay.

I cannot describe to you the despairing sensation of trying to do something for a man who seems incapable or unwilling to do anything further for himself.

Had sigh'd to many, though he loved but one.