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One hates an author that's all author.
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
Writing
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Hate
More quotes by Lord Byron
There is no instinct like that of the heart.
Lord Byron
A small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions... think.
Lord Byron
If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
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.
Lord Byron
Hearts will break - yet brokenly, live on.
Lord Byron
Yet I did love thee to the last, As ferverently as thou, Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now.
Lord Byron
Man marks the earth with ruin - his control stops with the shore.
Lord Byron
One certainly has a soul but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.
Lord Byron
Many are poets, but without the nameFor what is Poesy but to createFrom overfeeling Good or Ill and aimAt an external life beyond our fate,And be the new Prometheus of new men,Bestowing fire from Heaven, and then, too late,Finding the pleasure given repaid with pain
Lord Byron
Send me no more reviews of any kind. I will read no more of evil or good in that line. Walter Scott has not read a review of himself for thirteen years .
Lord Byron
With flowing tail and flying mane, Wide nostrils never stretched by pain, Mouth bloodless to bit or rein, And feet that iron never shod, And flanks unscar'd by spur or rod, A thousand horses - the wild - the free - Like waves that follow o'er the sea, Came thickly thundering on.
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.
Lord Byron
The devil was the first democrat
Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
Lord Byron
Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.
Lord Byron
Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
Lord Byron
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.
Lord Byron
Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.
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
I hate all pain, Given or received we have enough within us The meanest vassal as the loftiest monarch, Not to add to each other's natural burden Of mortal misery.
Lord Byron