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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.

Lord Byron

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.
LORD BYRON

Ache Along Country Eternity Leave Limpid People Person Reviry Think Unbound
There is music in all things, if men had ears.
LORD BYRON

Ears Men Music
Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
LORD BYRON

Friendship Love May Often Susbside
If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
LORD BYRON

Die Learn Society Solitude Teach
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
If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad.
LORD BYRON

Empathy Go Mad Mind Write
This is the age of oddities let loose.
LORD BYRON

Age Let Loose Oddities
Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
LORD BYRON

Country Countrymen Love Though
Reason is so unreasonable, that few people can say they are in possession of it.
LORD BYRON

Few People Possession Reason Say Unreasonable
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
Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please, the more because they preach in vain
LORD BYRON

Brain Few Thing May Preach More Pleas Surpass Wine
The best prophet of the future is the past.
LORD BYRON

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

Call Hate Misanthrope Them
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
Damn description, it is always disgusting.
LORD BYRON

Always Damm Description Disgust Statistics
Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss.
LORD BYRON

Abyss Bliss Care Fall Into Know Little

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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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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