The poor dog, in life the firmest friend. The first to welcome, foremost to defend.
LORD BYRONThe poor dog, in life the firmest friend. The first to welcome, foremost to defend.
LORD BYRONA small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions… think.
LORD BYRONCome what may, I have been blest.
LORD BYRONThe devil was the first democrat
LORD BYRONThere’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.
LORD BYRONTyranny is for the worst of treasons.
LORD BYRONA drop of ink may make a million think.
LORD BYRONThose who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.
LORD BYRONWhat an antithetical mind! – tenderness, roughness – delicacy, coarseness – sentiment, sensuality – soaring and groveling, dirt and deity – all mixed up in that one compound of inspired clay!
LORD BYRONI am not now That which I have been.
LORD BYRONWhere there is mystery, it is generally suspected there must also be evil.
LORD BYRONFew things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please, the more because they preach in vain
LORD BYRONThe 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.
LORD BYRONI have not loved the world, nor the world me.
LORD BYRONI learned to love despair.
LORD BYRONBut 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