I have simplified my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments; and, as it is the shortest and most agreeable and summary feeling imaginable.
LORD BYRONI awoke one day to find myself famous.
More Lord Byron Quotes
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But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
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I slept and dreamt that life was beauty; I woke and found that life was duty.
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If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad.
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Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss.
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If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
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Heaven gives its favourites-early death.
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Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.
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O thou beautiful And unimaginable ether! and Ye multiplying masses of increased And still increasing lights! what are ye? what Is this blue wilderness of interminable Air, where ye roll along, as I have seen
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Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.
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The tiger will himself intervene in the discussion, in a manner which will be in every sense conclusive.
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America is a model of force and freedom and moderation – with all the coarseness and rudeness of its people.
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The first moment of an universal republic would convert me into an advocate for single and uncontradicted despotism.
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Eternity forbids thee to forget.
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But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.
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The devil was the first democrat
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There is no instinct like that of the heart.
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Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.
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Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please, the more because they preach in vain
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What a strange thing is man! And what a stranger is woman.
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Newton, (that Proverb of the Mind,) alas! Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only “like a youth Picking up shells by the great Ocean-Truth.”
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Hearts will break – yet brokenly, live on.
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And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music… Speak to me!
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The leaves along the limpid streams of Eden? Is your course measur’d for ye? Or do ye Sweep on in your unbounded revelry Through an aerial universe of endless Expansion,–at which my soul aches to think,– Intoxicated with eternity.
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What should I have known or written had I been a quiet, mercantile politician or a lord in waiting? A man must travel, and turmoil, or there is no existence.
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Let joy be unconfined.
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You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
LORD BYRON