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America is a model of force and freedom and moderation - with all the coarseness and rudeness of its people.
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
Freedom
Force
Coarseness
America
Rudeness
People
Moderation
Rude
Model
Models
Literature
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Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
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The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
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The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.
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Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange, Although he fleeced the flags of every nation, For into a prime minister but change His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation.
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There is music in all things, if men had ears.
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In solitude, when we are least alone.
Lord Byron
Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
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Near this spot are deposited the remains of one who possessed beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of man, without his vices. This praise, which would be unmeaning flattery if inscribed over human ashes, is but a just tribute to the memory of Botswain, a dog.
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The devil was the first democrat
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And then he danced,-all foreigners excel the serious Angels in the eloquence of pantomime-he danced, I say, right well, with emphasis, and a'so with good sense-a thing in footing indispensable: he danced without theatrical pretence, not like a ballet-master in the van of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentleman.
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Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.
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With thee all tales are sweet each clime has charms earth - sea alike - our world within our arms.
Lord Byron
Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal.
Lord Byron
Ah, happy years! once more who would not be a boy?
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Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice-- The weakness and the wickedness of luxury-- The negligence--the apathy--the evils Of sensual sloth--produces ten thousand tyrants, Whose delegated cruelty surpasses The worst acts of one energetic master, However harsh and hard in his own bearing.
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Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?
Lord Byron
And those who saw, it did surprise, Such drops could fall from human eyes.
Lord Byron
I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.
Lord Byron
The English winter - ending in July to recommence in August
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Not to admire, is all the art I know To make men happy, or to keep them so. Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach From his translation but had none admired, Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired?
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