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A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
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
Vices
Hearts
Gold
Heart
Overwhelm
Meanest
Beggar
Thirst
Vice
More quotes by Lord Byron
Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal.
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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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Eternity forbids thee to forget.
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Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art, For there thy habitation is the heart-- The heart which love of thee alone can bind And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd-- To fetters and damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom.
Lord Byron
By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies.
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And life 's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
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The great object of life is Sensation - to feel that we exist - even though in pain - it is this craving void which drives us to gaming - to battle - to travel - to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.
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It has been said that the immortality of the soul is a grand peut-tre -but still it is a grand one. Everybody clings to it -the stupidest, and dullest, and wickedest of human bipeds is still persuaded that he is immortal.
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Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay, Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme, Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
Lord Byron
Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.
Lord Byron
In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.
Lord Byron
I have not loved the World, nor the World me I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed To its idolatries a patient knee, Nor coined my cheek to smiles,-nor cried aloud In worship of an echo.
Lord Byron
Damn description, it is always disgusting.
Lord Byron
Frienship is eros...without wings
Lord Byron
Though the day of my Destiny 's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.
Lord Byron
Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.
Lord Byron
May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill, And tailors' lays be longer than their bill! While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes, And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.
Lord Byron
Land of lost gods and godlike men.
Lord Byron
And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.
Lord Byron
The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains--beautiful! I linger yet with nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man, and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learned the language of another world.
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