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I do not believe in any religion, I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.

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
Religion
Another
Without
Nothing
Enough
Speculating
Believe
Immortality
Life
Miserable
Upon

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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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What's drinking? A mere pause from thinking!
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The Coach does not play in the game, but the Coach helps the players identify areas to improve their game.
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What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
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Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.
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What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common where the climate's sultry.
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Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth but actions are our epochs.
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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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And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy They have a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being.
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Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister
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For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
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My slumbers--if I slumber--are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not: in my heart There is a vigil, and these eyes but close To look within and yet I live, and bear The aspect and the form of breathing men.
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It is when we think we lead that we are most led.
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Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
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I know that two and two make four - and should be glad to prove it too if I could - though I must say if by any sort of process I could convert 2 and 2 into five it would give me much greater pleasure.
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Just as old age is creeping on space, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, They kindly leave us, though not quite alone, But in good company--the gout or stone.
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There is no passion, more spectral or fantastical than hate, not even its opposite, love, so peoples air, with phantoms, as this madness of the heart.
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I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.
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Oh Rome! My country! City of the soul!
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The devil was the first democrat
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