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All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

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
Feeling
Though
Heaven
Feelings
Breathless
Stills
Grow
Earth
Silence
Still
Grows
Sleep

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Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till-'t is gone, and all is gray.
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If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad. As to that regular, uninterrupted love of writing. I do not understand it. I feel it as a torture, which I must get rid of, but never as a pleasure. On the contrary, I think composition a great pain.
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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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For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.
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Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
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America is a model of force and freedom and moderation - with all the coarseness and rudeness of its people.
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Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?
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This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
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I learned to love despair.
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Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
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Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister
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I have no consistency, except in politics and that probably arises from my indifference to the subject altogether.
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I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.
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Eat, drink and love...the rest is not worth a nickel
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A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.
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Man marks the earth with ruin - his control stops with the shore.
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There are some feelings time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake.
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Folly loves the martyrdom of fame.
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I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me - I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war.
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Socrates said, our only knowledge was To know that nothing could be known a pleasant Science enough, which levels to an ass Each Man of Wisdom, future, past, or present. Newton, (that Proverb of the Mind,) alas! Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only like a youth Picking up shells by the great Ocean-Truth.
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