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Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.

Lord Byron

Armenian is the language to speak with God.
LORD BYRON

Country God Language People Person Place Speak
We have fools in all sects, and impostors in most; why should I believe mysteries no one can understand, because written by men who chose to mistake madness for inspiration and style themselves Evangelicals?
LORD BYRON

All Believe Chose Fool Impostors Men Most Mystery Sect Understand Written
This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.
LORD BYRON

Beyond Mortal Mortality Seek Thing
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.
LORD BYRON

Been Known Lord Mercantile Politician Wait Written
Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss.
LORD BYRON

Abyss Bliss Care Fall Into Know Little
That music in itself, whose sounds are song, The poetry of speech.
LORD BYRON

Itself Music Poetry Song Sound Speech
I 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

Count Cry Drawer Embedded Keep Love Money Once Over Sequin Some Such Wek
Where there is mystery, it is generally suspected there must also be evil.
LORD BYRON

Also Evil Generally Must Mystery Suspect
All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
LORD BYRON

Born Happiness Joy Must Share Twin
There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.
LORD BYRON

Away Give Joy Like Take World
Roll on, deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin, but his control stops with the shore.
LORD BYRON

Blue Dark Deep Feetm Sweep Ocean Over Roll Teen Thousand Vain
But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
LORD BYRON

Drop Ink Small Thing Word
For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.
LORD BYRON

Always Fiction Strange Stranger Truth
In solitude, where we are least alone.
LORD BYRON

Alone Lease Solitude
The great object of life is Sensation – to feel that we exist – even though in pain – it is this “craving void” which drives us to gaming – to battle – to travel – to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.
LORD BYRON

Crave Drive Even Exist Feel Game Great Life Object Pain Sensation Though Void
It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe; you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.
LORD BYRON

Belive Man might Reason Sleep Tell Useless Wake Well

Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.

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Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.

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Popular Authors

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