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A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.
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
Stills
Still
Littles
Little
Consented
Much
Strove
Repented
Whispering
Consent
More quotes by Lord Byron
Now what I love in women is, they won't Or can't do otherwise than lie, but do it. So well, the very truth seems falsehood to it.
Lord Byron
But as to women, who can penetrate the real sufferings of their she condition? Man's very sympathy with their estate has much of selfishness and more suspicion. Their love, their virtue, beauty, education, but form good housekeepers, to breed a nation.
Lord Byron
The art of angling, the cruelest, the coldest and the stupidest of pretended sports.
Lord Byron
Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
Lord Byron
None are so desolate but something dear, Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.
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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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A good coach encourages the same type of resilience in the people they work with. They encourage them to take risks. If the risk results in failure, they help all people to learn from the mistake and then go on to try another way.
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Tis strange,-but true for truth is always strange Stranger than fiction: if it could be told, How much would novels gain by the exchange! How differently the world would men behold!
Lord Byron
My altars are the mountains and the ocean.
Lord Byron
Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
Lord Byron
Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
Lord Byron
I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me - I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war.
Lord Byron
There is something to me very softening in the presence of a woman, some strange influence, even if one is not in love with them, which I cannot at all account for, having no very high opinion of the sex. But yet, I always feel in better humor with myself and every thing else, if there is a woman within ken.
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A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
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Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay, Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme, Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
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And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.
Lord Byron
The waves were dead the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd Darkness had no need Of aid from them-She was the Universe.
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I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne misplaced in life. I know not what I could have been, but feel I am not what I should be let it end.
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Years steal fire from the mind as vigor from the limb and life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
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You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
Lord Byron
