Lord Byron Quotes

The cold in clime are cold in blood,
Their love can scarce deserve the name;
But mine was like the lava flood
That boils in Ætna’s breast of flame.

So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

All who joy would win
Must share it — Happiness was born a twin.

More brave than firm,
and more disposed to dare
And die at once
than wrestle with despair...

But I being fond of true philosophy,
Say very often to myself, 'Alas!
All things that have been born were born to die,
And flesh (which Death mows down to hay) is grass;
You've pass'd your youth not so unpleasantly,
And if you had it o'er again — 't would pass — So thank your stars that matters are no worse,
And read your Bible, sir, and mind your purse.

Hail, Muse! et cetera.

Absence - that common cure of love.

My slumbers — if I slumber — are not sleep,
But a continuance of enduring thought,
Which then I can resist not: in my heart
There is a vigil, and these eyes but close
To look within; and yet I live, and bear
The aspect and the form of breathing men.