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

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

British Poet and leading figure in the Romantic Movement

Author Quotes

Whom the gods love die young was said of yore.

Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print. A book's a book, although there's nothing in 't.

To create, and in creating live a being more intense, that we endow with form our fancy, gaining as we give the life we image, even as i do now. What am i? Nothing: but not so art thou, soul of my thought! With whom i traverse earth, invisible but gazing, as I glow mix'd with thy spirit, blended with thy birth, and feeling still with thee in my crush'd feelings' dearth.

Truth is a gem that is found at a great depth; whilst on the surface of this world all things are weighed by the false scale of custom.

We can’t all be Byronic adventurers like you Jude. Have you been wrestling with any brigands in the mountains there? No, but you’ve got to watch the drivers! Funny you should mention the poetic lord. He used to take his holidays down here, you know? What… picking up last-minute bargains with ‘EasyFrigate’?

What exile from himself can flee? To zones, though more and more remote, Still, still pursues, where'er I be, The blight of life--the demon Thought.

Whatsoe'er thy birth, Thou wert a beautiful thought and softly bodied forth.

When things are bad, we take comfort in the thought that they could always get worse. And when they are, we find hope in the thought that things are so bad they have to get better.

Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires The young, makes Weariness forget his toil, And Fear her danger; opens a new world When this, the present, palls.

Whose game was empires and whose stakes were thrones, Whose table earth, whose dice were human bones.

Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one's right; and when one's wrong They smile still more.

To endure is the first thing that a child ought to learn, and that which he will have the most need to know.

Truth is always strange, stranger than fiction.

We deem those happy who from the experience of life have learnt to bear its ills without being overcome by them.

What gem hath dropp'd, and sparkles o'er his chain? The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain, That starts at once--bright pure--from Pity's mine, Already polish'd by the hand divine!

When a man gets to despair he knows that all his thinking will never get him out. He will only get out by the sheer creative effort of God. Consequently he is in the right attitude to receive from God that which he cannot gain for himself.

When walking through the valley of shadows, remember, a shadow is cast by a Light.

Which makes life itself a lie, Flattering dust with eternity.

Why did she love him? Curious fool!--be still-- Is human love the growth of human will?

Three hundred cannon threw up their emetic, And thirty thousand muskets flung their pills Like hail, to make a bloody diuretic; Mortality! thou hast thy monthly bills! Thy plagues, thy famines, thy physicians, yet tick, Like the death-watch, within our ears the ills, Past, present, and to come; but all may yield To the true portrait of one battle-field.

Tis said that persons living on annuities are longer lived than others'Tis said the lion will turn and flee From a maid in the pride of her purity.

To feel for none is the true social art of the world's stoics - men without a heart.

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.

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Byron, formally George Gordon Noel Byron, 6th Baron Byron
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British Poet and leading figure in the Romantic Movement