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In commitment, we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.

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
Hopes
Perseverance
Potential
Commitment
Thousand
Self
Dash
Selves

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In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.
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And wrinkles, the damned democrats, won't flatter.
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I cannot conceive why people will always mix up my own character and opinions with those of the imaginary beings which, as a poet, I have the right and liberty to draw.
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My slumbers--if I slumber--are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not: in my heart There is a vigil, and these eyes but close To look within and yet I live, and bear The aspect and the form of breathing men.
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All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.
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Grief is fantastical, and loves the dead, And the apparel of the grave.
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Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen.
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This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.
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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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Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.
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Sleep hath its own world, and the wide realm of wild reality.
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This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
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Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.
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Of religion I know nothing -- at least, in its favor.
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Fame is the thirst of youth.
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What deep wounds ever closed without a scar? The hearts bleed longest, and heals but to wear That which disfigures it.
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