Quotes by Lord Byron

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George Gordon (Noel) Byron, 6th Baron Byron (January 22, 1788April 19, 1824) was an Anglo-Scottish poet and leading figure in Romanticism. Among his best-known works are the narrative poems Childe Harold's Pilgrimage and Don ... more

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Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling.

Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
Poetry should only occupy the idle.
I by no means rank poetry high in the scale of intelligence --this may look like affectation but it is my real opinion. It is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
I like his holiness very much, particularly since an order, which I understand he has lately given, that no more miracles shall be performed.
What a strange thing is the propagation of life! A bubble of seed which may be spilt in a whore's lap, or in the orgasm of a voluptuous dream, might (for aught we know) have formed a Caesar or a Bonaparte -- there is nothing remarkable recorded of their sires, that I know of.
I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.
This sort of adoration of the real is but a heightening of the beau ideal.
My attachment has neither the blindness of the beginning, nor the microscopic accuracy of the close of such liaisons.
I am always most religious upon a sunshiny day...
The king-times are fast finishing. There will be blood shed like water, and tears like mist; but the peoples will conquer in the end. I shall not live to see it, but I foresee it.
The dead have been awakened -- shall I sleep? The world's at war with tyrants -- shall I crouch? the harvest's ripe -- and shall I pause to reap? I slumber not; the thorn is in my couch; Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear, its echo in my heart.
They never fail who die in a great cause.
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
Science is but the exchange of ignorance for that which is another kind of ignorance.
I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me -- I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war.
If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.
The Cardinal is at his wit's end -- it is true that he had not far to go.
With just enough of learning to misquote.
Who surpasses or subdues mankind, must look down on the hate of those below.
This is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies, and for saving souls. All propagated with the best intentions.
I am sure of nothing so little as my own intentions.
The way to be immortal (I mean not to die at all) is to have me for your heir. I recommend you to put me in your will and you will see that (as long as I live at least) you will never even catch cold.
It has been said that the immortality of the soul is a grand peut-tre --but still it is a grand one. Everybody clings to it --the stupidest, and dullest, and wickedest of human bipeds is still persuaded that he is immortal.
Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his main-spring of Mind. But God help us all! It is at present a sad jar of atoms.
And having wisdom with each studious year, in meditation dwelt, with learning wrought, and shaped his weapon with an edge severe, sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer.
I cannot help thinking that the menace of Hell makes as many devils as the severe penal codes of inhuman humanity make villains.
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
Who tracks the steps of glory to the grave?
I do detest everything which is not perfectly mutual.
I have a notion that gamblers are as happy as most people, being always excited; women, wine, fame, the table, even ambition, sate now and then, but every turn of the card and cast of the dice keeps the gambler alive -- besides one can game ten times longer than one can do any thing else.
Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, streams like the thunderstorm against the wind.
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands.
We have progressively improved into a less spiritual species of tenderness -- but the seal is not yet fixed though the wax is preparing for the impression.
Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal.
My great comfort is, that the temporary celebrity I have wrung from the world has been in the very teeth of all opinions and prejudices. I have flattered no ruling powers; I have never concealed a single thought that tempted me.
I awoke one morning and found myself famous.
Posterity will never survey a nobler grave than this: here lie the bones of Castlereagh: stop, traveler, and piss.
Prolonged endurance tames the bold.
A thousand years may scare form a state. An hour may lay it in ruins.
He scratched his ear, the infallible resource to which embarrassed people have recourse.
Thy decay's still impregnate with divinity.
It is very iniquitous to make me pay my debts -- you have no idea of the pain it gives one.
That low vice, curiosity!
Critics are already made.
A man must serve his time to every trade save censure -- critics all are ready made.
The drying up a single tear has more of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper, which makes bank credit like a bark of vapor.
Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire -- in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?
There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.
Her great merit is finding out mine -- there is nothing so amiable as discernment.
This place is the Devil, or at least his principal residence, they call it the University, but any other appellation would have suited it much better, for study is the last pursuit of the society; the Master eats, drinks, and sleeps, the Fellows drink, dispute and pun, the employments of the undergraduates you will probably conjecture without my description.
Men are the sport of circumstances when it seems circumstances are the sport of men.
I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.
Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people.
The lapse of ages changes all things -- time, language, the earth, the bounds of the sea, the stars of the sky, and every thing about, around, and underneath man, except man himself.
It is by far the most elegant worship, hardly excepting the Greek mythology. What with incense, pictures, statues, altars, shrines, relics, and the real presence, confession, absolution, -- there is something sensible to grasp at. Besides, it leaves no possibility of doubt; for those who swallow their Deity, really and truly, in transubstantiation, can hardly find any thing else otherwise than easy of digestion.
Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; A book's a book, although there's nothing in it.
The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.
Dreading that climax of all human ills the inflammation of his weekly bills.