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Jealousy dislikes the world to know it.
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
Jealousy
Dislike
Jealous
Envy
World
Dislikes
More quotes by Lord Byron
To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.
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Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
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Knowledge is not happiness, and science But an exchange of ignorance for that Which is another kind of ignorance.
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In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.
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Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth but actions are our epochs.
Lord Byron
And the commencement of atonement is the sense of its necessity.
Lord Byron
It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. A year impairs, a luster obliterates. There is little distinct left without an effort of memory, then indeed the lights are rekindled for a moment - but who can be sure that the Imagination is not the torch-bearer?
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Roll on, deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin, but his control stops with the shore.
Lord Byron
He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
Lord Byron
The simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, both by precept and example, shows / That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose.
Lord Byron
The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.
Lord Byron
Who then will explain the explanation?
Lord Byron
Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear-- In woman's eye the unanswerable tear! That weapon of her weakness she can wield, To save, subdue--at once her spear and shield.
Lord Byron
Lord of himself that heritage of woe!
Lord Byron
Then, fare thee well, deceitful Maid!
Lord Byron
The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
Lord Byron
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
Lord Byron
A quiet conscience makes one so serene.
Lord Byron
Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.
Lord Byron
Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
Lord Byron
