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But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
Lord Byron
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Lord Byron
Age: 36 †
Born: 1788
Born: January 22
Died: 1824
Died: April 19
Autobiographer
Baron Byron
Diarist
Librettist
Lyricist
Military Personnel
Playwright
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
London
England
George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron
Noel Byron
Xhorxh Bajroni
Bajron
George Gordon
Jerzy Gordon Byron
Pai-lun
Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Noel
Byron
George Gordon Byron
Baron Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Noël Byron Byron
Bayrěn
Payrěn
George Gordon By
Thinking
Words
Falling
Life
Fall
Thousands
Like
Inspirational
Ambition
Makes
Produce
Authorship
Thought
Perhaps
Dew
Writing
Millions
Ink
Things
Small
Produces
Think
Upon
Drop
More quotes by Lord Byron
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!
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We have fools in all sects, and impostors in most why should I believe mysteries no one can understand, because written by men who chose to mistake madness for inspiration and style themselves Evangelicals?
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The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.
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I cannot conceive why people will always mix up my own character and opinions with those of the imaginary beings which, as a poet, I have the right and liberty to draw.
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Our life is two fold Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality.
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If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
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Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
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Man marks the earth with ruin - his control stops with the shore.
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Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till-'t is gone, and all is gray.
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Though the day of my Destiny 's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.
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Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.
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Father of Light! great God of Heaven! Hear'st thou the accents of despair? Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven? Can vice atone for crimes by prayer.
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Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth but actions are our epochs.
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Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.
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I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.
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My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.
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It is when we think we lead that we are most led.
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For truth is always strange stranger than fiction.
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And the commencement of atonement is the sense of its necessity.
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Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
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