Lord Byron Quotes

If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.

The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space.

We'll Go No More A-roving

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

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

But first, on earth as vampire sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent,
Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race.

There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life,
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corse.

Thy victims ere they yet expire
Shall know the demon for their sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are withered on the stem.

The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the Music breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonised the whole — And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!

Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?

On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd

Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter,
Sermons and soda-water the day after.

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.

But 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.

Absence - that common cure of love.

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.

Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.

There's music in the sighing of a reed;
There's music in the gushing of a rill;
There's music in all things, if men had ears;
The earth is but the music of the spheres.

Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.