We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
LORD BYRONWe are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
LORD BYRONMy heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
LORD BYRONThere is music in all things, if men had ears.
LORD BYRONThe dew of compassion is a tear.
LORD BYRONThat music in itself, whose sounds are song, The poetry of speech.
LORD BYRONAnd I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music… Speak to me!
LORD BYRONLet us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
LORD BYRONThere is no instinct like that of the heart.
LORD BYRONThough I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
LORD BYRONI should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.
LORD BYRONTis the perception of the beautiful, A fine extension of the faculties, Platonic, universal, wonderful, Drawn from the stars, and filtered through the skies, Without which life would be extremely dull
LORD BYRONOf religion I know nothing — at least, in its favor.
LORD BYRONArmenian is the language to speak with God.
LORD BYRONThis is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.
LORD BYRONTruth is a gem that is found at a great depth; whilst on the surface of the world all things are weighed by the false scale of custom.
LORD BYRONI have imbibed such a love for money that I keep some sequins in a drawer to count, and cry over them once a week.
LORD BYRON