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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
Hates
Author
Hate
Writing

More quotes by Lord Byron

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Heaven gives its favourites-early death.
Lord Byron
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The heart will break, but broken live on.
Lord Byron
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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.
Lord Byron
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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
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This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.
Lord Byron
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Eternity forbids thee to forget.
Lord Byron
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And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
Lord Byron
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Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber!
Lord Byron
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Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
Lord Byron
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Bologna is celebrated for producing popes, painters, and sausage.
Lord Byron
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What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common where the climate's sultry.
Lord Byron
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The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonised the whole — And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!
Lord Byron
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Yet smelt roast meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.
Lord Byron
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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
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Grief is fantastical, and loves the dead, And the apparel of the grave.
Lord Byron
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Land of lost gods and godlike men.
Lord Byron
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Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen.
Lord Byron
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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.
Lord Byron
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There is, in fact, no law or government at all and it is wonderful how well things go on without them.
Lord Byron
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Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?
Lord Byron