Lord Byron Quotes

Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other's weal avail'd on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky.

Frienship is eros...without wings

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

The mellow autumn came, and with it came The promised party, to enjoy its sweets. The corn is cut, the manor full of game; The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim; Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats. An, nutbrown partridges! An, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.

O Fame! if I ever took delight in thy praises, Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover The thought that I was not unworthy to love her.

Of all tales 'tis the saddest--and more sad, Because it makes us smile.

A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands.

The drying up a single tear has more, of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

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.

The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.

I die but first I have possessed, And come what may, I have been blessed.

He who is only just is cruel; who Upon the earth would live were all judged justly?

Yet still there whispers the small voice within, Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din; Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, Man's conscience is the oracle of God.

A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.

A thousand years may scare form a state. An hour may lay it in ruins.

I am as comfortless as a pilgrim with peas in his shoes - and as cold as Charity, Chastity or any other Virtue.

There's music in the sighing of a reed; There's music in the gushing of a rill; There's music in all things, if men had ears; The earth is but the music of the spheres.

One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer.

Fare thee well, and if for ever Still for ever fare thee well.

This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.

I have not loved the world, nor the world me, but let us part fair foes; I do believe, though I have found them not, that there may be words which are things, hopes which will not deceive, and virtues which are merciful, or weave snares for the failing: I would also deem o'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; that two, or one, are almost what they seem, that goodness is no name, and happiness no dream.

I have always laid it down as a maxim -and found it justified by experience -that a man and a woman make far better friendships than can exist between two of the same sex -but then with the condition that they never have made or are to make love to each other.

The French courage proceeds from vanity

Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.

Reason is so unreasonable, that few people can say they are in possession of it.

It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe; you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.

Switzerland is a curst, selfish, swinish country of brutes, placed in the most romantic region of the world.

I awoke one day to find myself famous.

Ancient of days! august Athena! where, Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul? Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were; First in the race that led to glory's goal, They won, and pass'd away--Is this the whole?

Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.

Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, and broke the die.

Champagne with its foaming whirls/As white as Cleopatra's pearls.

To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.

Fill high the cup with Samian wine!

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

Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No," And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow, Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.

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.

I love not man the less, but Nature more.

If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad. As to that regular, uninterrupted love of writing. I do not understand it. I feel it as a torture, which I must get rid of, but never as a pleasure. On the contrary, I think composition a great pain.

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.

Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty.

No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.

Whenever I meet with anything agreeable in this world it surprises me so much - and pleases me so much (when my passions are not interested in one way or the other) that I go on wondering for a week to come.

That low vice, curiosity!

Tis an old lesson; time approves it true, And those who know it best, deplore it most; When all is won that all desire to woo, The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.

I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me - I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war.