Quotes from Lord Byron

The lapse of ages changes all things - time - language - the earth - the bounds of the sea - the stars of the sky, and everything 'about, around, and underneath' man, except man himself, who has always been and always will be, an unlucky rascal. The infinite variety of lives conduct but to death, and the infinity of wishes lead but to disappointment. All the discoveries which have yet been made have multiplied little but existence.

LUCIFER: I pity thee who lovest what must perish. CAIN: And I thee who lov'st nothing

Woman! experience might have told me, That all must love thee who behold thee: Surely experience might have taught Thy firmest promises are nought: But, placed in all thy charms before me, All I forget, but to adore thee.

They grieved for those who perished with the cutter, and also for the biscuit casks and butter.

Even innocence itself has many a wile, And will not dare to trust itself with truth, And love is taught hypocrisy from youth.

He was a man of his times. with one virtue and a thousand crimes. (The Corsair)

Wedded she some years, and to a man Of fifty, and such husbands are in plenty; And yet, I think, instead of such a ONE 'Twere better to have TWO of five and twenty...

Being of no party, I shall offend all parties

I will keep no further journal of that same hesternal torch?light ; and, to prevent me from returning, like a dog, to the vomit of memory, I tear out the remaining leaves of this volume...

I awoke one morning to find myself famous.

But who, alas! can love, and then be wise?

But first on earth as vampire sent Thy corpse shall from its tomb be rent Then gastly haunt thy native place And suck the blood of all thy race

If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.

Old man! 'Tis not difficult to die.

That which would not yield, nor could forget, Which, when it least appear'd to melt, Intensely thought, intensely felt: The deepest ice which ever froze Can only o'er the surface close; The living stream lies quick below, And flows--and cannot cease to flow.

Come, lay thy head upon my breast and I'll kiss thee unto rest.

Dull is the eye that will not weep to see- Thy walls defaced thy mouldering shines removed- by british hands, which it had best behoved- to guard those relics ne'er to be restored. Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved,- And once again thy hapless bossom gored- and snatch'd shrinking gods to northern climes abhorred.

The moon is up, and yet it is not night, The sun as yet divides the day with her.

This should have been a noble creature: he/ Hath all the energy which would have made/ A goodly frame of glorious elements,/ Had they been wisely mingled; as it is,/ It is an awful chaos-light and darkness-/ And mind and dust- and passions and pure thoughts,/ Mix'd, and contending without end or order,/ All dormant or destructive/

I loved - but those I loved are gone; Had friends - my early friends are fled: How cheerless feels the heart alone When all its former hopes are dead! Though gay companions o'er the bowl Dispel awhile the sense of ill; Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul, The heart - the heart - is lonely still.

Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.

I will not ask where thou liest low, Nor gaze upon the spot; There flowers or weeds at will may grow, So I behold them not

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, And dreams in their development have breath, And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.

But I have lived, and have not lived in vain: My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, And my frame perish even in conquering pain, But there is that within me that shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire.