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If I could always read, I should never feel the want of company.

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Always Company Could Feel never Read Want

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

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

Call Hate Misanthrope Them
Hearts will break – yet brokenly, live on.
LORD BYRON

Break Brokenly Heart Live On
Where there is mystery, it is generally suspected there must also be evil.
LORD BYRON

Also Evil Generally Must Mystery Suspect
In solitude, where we are least alone.
LORD BYRON

Alone Lease Solitude
Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss.
LORD BYRON

Abyss Bliss Care Fall Into Know Little
To have joy, one must share it.
LORD BYRON

Joy Must One Share
You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
LORD BYRON

Gave Heart Key Knock Love Make
Opinions are made to be changed or how is truth to be got at?
LORD BYRON

Change Got How Made Opinion Truth
This is the age of oddities let loose.
LORD BYRON

Age Let Loose Oddities
Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
LORD BYRON

Friendship Love May Often Susbside
Eternity forbids thee to forget.
LORD BYRON

Eternity Forbids Forget Thee
Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
LORD BYRON

Divine Form Man Part Pure Soul Steam Trouble
I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.
LORD BYRON

Among Shroud Stood Them Thought
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
LORD BYRON

Beautiful Blue Ether Increase Light Mass Multiply Unimaginable Wildence
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.
LORD BYRON

Cheek Country Existence Face Hollow Hope Least Nothing Paint People Person Rub See Touch Truth
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand;
LORD BYRON

Bridge Country Each Hand Person Place Prison Sighs Stood

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