Lord Byron
Lord Byron
George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron, FRS, commonly known simply as Lord Byron, was an English poet and a leading figure in the Romantic movement. Among his best-known works are the lengthy narrative poems Don Juan and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and the short lyric "She Walks in Beauty"...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth22 January 1788
feelings mind desert
The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
stars disappointment discovery
The lapse of ages changes all things - time - language - the earth - the bounds of the sea - the stars of the sky, and everything 'about, around, and underneath' man, except man himself, who has always been and always will be, an unlucky rascal. The infinite variety of lives conduct but to death, and the infinity of wishes lead but to disappointment. All the discoveries which have yet been made have multiplied little but existence.
happiness meaningful angel
All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
love funny epic
Absence - that common cure of love.
pretty-woman guests welcome
A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
drinking thinking alcohol
What's drinking? A mere pause from thinking!
nature men earth-day
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
truth soul secret
No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
fall coffee men
Let no man grumble when his friends fall off, As they will do like leaves at the first breeze; When your affairs come round, one way or t'other, Go to the coffee house, and take another.
thinking littles impossible
To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.
love goodbye farewell
Fare thee well, and if for ever Still for ever fare thee well.
sea tears honest
The drying up a single tear has more, of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
nature men thinking
I think the worst woman that ever existed would have made a man of very passable reputation -- they are all better than us and their faults such as they are must originate with ourselves.
overcoming hateful instinct
I live, but live to die: and, living, see nothing to make death hateful, save an innate clinging, a loathsome and yet all invincible instinct of life, which I abhor, as I despise myself, yet cannot overcome — and so I live. Would I had never lived!