3 December 2020 Lord Byron Man, being reasonable, must get drunk the best of life is but intoxication.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his main-spring of Mind. But God help us all! It is at present a sad jar of atoms.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron A man of eighty has outlived probably three new schools of painting, two of architecture and poetry and a hundred in dress.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron 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.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Though sages may pour out their wisdom’s treasure, there is no sterner moralist than pleasure.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life’s page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Lovers may be – and indeed generally are – enemies, but they never can be friends, because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a something of Self in all their speculations.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.
3 December 2020 Lord Byron If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher’s cleaver.
