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Sleep hath its own world, and the wide realm of wild reality.
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
World
Realm
Hath
Realms
Wild
Wide
Sleep
Reality
More quotes by Lord Byron
If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
Lord Byron
There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.
Lord Byron
But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much, as when we call our old debts in At sixty years, and draw the accounts of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil.
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Not to admire, is all the art I know To make men happy, or to keep them so. Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach From his translation but had none admired, Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired?
Lord Byron
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.
Lord Byron
Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.
Lord Byron
Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
Lord Byron
Who then will explain the explanation?
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Your thief looks Exactly like the rest, or rather better 'Tis only at the bar, and in the dungeon, That wise men know your felon by his features.
Lord Byron
A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.
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And then he danced,-all foreigners excel the serious Angels in the eloquence of pantomime-he danced, I say, right well, with emphasis, and a'so with good sense-a thing in footing indispensable: he danced without theatrical pretence, not like a ballet-master in the van of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentleman.
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I speak not of men's creeds—they rest between Man and his Maker.
Lord Byron
This is to be along this, this is solitude!
Lord Byron
Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
Lord Byron
Lord of himself that heritage of woe!
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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Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.
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Poetry should only occupy the idle.
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For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
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Ah, happy years! once more who would not be a boy?
Lord Byron