Lord Byron, formally George Gordon Noel Byron, 6th Baron Byron

Lord
Byron, formally George Gordon Noel Byron, 6th Baron Byron
1788
1824

British Poet and leading figure in the Romantic Movement

Author Quotes

Twas blow for blow, disputing inch by inch, For one would not retreat, nor t'other flinch.

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.

What is Death, so it be but glorious? 'Tis a sunset; and mortals may be happy to resemble the Gods but in decay.

When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home, let him combat for that of his neighbors; let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome, and get knocked on the head for his labors. To do good to Mankind is the chivalrous plan, and is always as nobly requited; then battle from Freedom wherever you can, and, if not shot or hanged, you'll get knighted.

When we have what we like 'tis hard to miss it.

While franklin's quiet memory climbs to heaven, calming the lightning which he thence hath riven, or drawing from the no less kindled earth freedom and peace to that which boasts his birth; while washington's a watchword, such as ne'er shall sink while there's an echo left to air.

Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me, not I them.

Through life's road, so dim and dirty, I have dragged to three and thirty; What have these years left to me? Nothing, except thirty-three.

Tis solitude should teach us how to die; It hath no flatterers; vanity can give No hollow aid; alone--man with his God must strive.

To fly from, need not be to hate mankind.

Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, and help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low: so the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain, no more through rolling clouds to soar again, view'd his own feather on the fatal dart, and wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.

We must free ourselves of the hope that the sea will ever rest. We must learn to sail in high winds.

What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past-- For years fleet away with the wings of the dove-- The dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.

When we think we lead we are most led.

While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; And when Rome falls - the World.

Why don't they knead two virtuous souls for life Into that moral centaur, man and wife?

Thus ever fade my fairy dreams of bliss.

Tis strange - but true; for truth is always strange; stranger than fiction; if it could be told, how much would novels gain by the exchange! How differently the world would men behold! How oft would vice and virtue places change! The new world would be nothing to the old, if some Columbus of the moral seas would show mankind their souls' antipodes.

To fly from, need not be to hate, mankind: all are not fit with them to stir and toil, nor is it discontent to keep the mind deep in its fountain.

Tyranny Is far the worst of treasons. Dost thou deem none rebels except subjects? The prince who neglects or violates his trust is more a brigand than the robber-chief.

We ne'er forget, tho' there we are forgot.

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.

When all of genius which can perish dies.

When we two parted in silence and tears, half broken-hearted, to sever for years, pale grew thy cheek and cold, colder thy kiss; truly that hour foretold sorrow to this. The dew of the morning sank chill on my brow— it felt like the warning of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, and light is thy fame: i hear thy name spoken, and share in its shame. They name thee before me, a knell to mine ear; a shudder comes o'er me— why wert thou so dear? They know not i knew thee, who knew thee too well — long, long shall I rue thee too deeply to tell. In secret we met— in silence I grieve that thy heart could forget, thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee after long years, how should I greet thee?— with silence and tears.

Author Picture
First Name
Lord
Last Name
Byron, formally George Gordon Noel Byron, 6th Baron Byron
Birth Date
1788
Death Date
1824
Bio

British Poet and leading figure in the Romantic Movement