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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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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
Given
Mother
Recollection
Many
Blown
Good
Brains
Would
Brain
Pleasure
Law

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Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.
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Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
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There is something to me very softening in the presence of a woman, some strange influence, even if one is not in love with them, which I cannot at all account for, having no very high opinion of the sex. But yet, I always feel in better humor with myself and every thing else, if there is a woman within ken.
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Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes But no too humbly, or she will despise Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes: Disguise even tenderness if thou art wise.
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The art of angling, the cruelest, the coldest and the stupidest of pretended sports.
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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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The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.
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What is Death, so it be but glorious? 'Tis a sunset And mortals may be happy to resemble The Gods but in decay.
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Books, Manuals, Directives, Regulations. The geometries that circumscribe your working life draw norrower and norrower until nothing fits inside them anymore.
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I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.
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Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.
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It is true from early habit, one must make love mechanically as one swims I was once very fond of both, but now as I never swim unless I tumble into the water, I don't make love till almost obliged.
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I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.
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This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
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But every fool describes, in these bright days, His wondrous journey to some foreign court, And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise,-- Death to his publisher, to him 'tis sport.
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I loved my country, and I hated him.
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Life is too short for chess.
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And life 's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
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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.
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The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space.
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