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Man marks the earth with ruin - his control stops with the shore.
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
Men
Shore
Ruins
Thee
Sea
Nautical
Mark
Marks
Ocean
Sailing
Control
Ruin
Earth
Stops
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He learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress - or a nunnery.
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My altars are the mountains and the ocean.
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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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No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
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Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou? Fond hope of many nations, art thou dead? Could not the grave forget thee, and lay low Some less majestic, less beloved head?
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For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
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The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.
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Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
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A timid mind is apt to mistake every scratch for a mortal wound.
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The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, and feel for what their duty bids them do.
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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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There is no instinct like that of the heart.
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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.
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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!
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For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.
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Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
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