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Ah, happy years! once more who would not be a boy?

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
Boys
Happiness
Happy
Years
Would

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I do not believe in any religion, I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.
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Curiosity kills itself and love is only curiosity, as is proved by its end.
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Every day confirms my opinion on the superiority of a vicious life, and if Virtue is not its own reward, I don't know any other stipend annexed to it.
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For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.
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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.
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So sweet the blush of bashfulness, E'en pity scarce can wish it less!
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Father of Light! great God of Heaven! Hear'st thou the accents of despair? Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven? Can vice atone for crimes by prayer.
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Many are poets, but without the nameFor what is Poesy but to createFrom overfeeling Good or Ill and aimAt an external life beyond our fate,And be the new Prometheus of new men,Bestowing fire from Heaven, and then, too late,Finding the pleasure given repaid with pain
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Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried.
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Come what may, I have been blest.
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Oh Rome! My country! City of the soul!
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Hatred is the madness of the heart.
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I hate all pain, Given or received we have enough within us The meanest vassal as the loftiest monarch, Not to add to each other's natural burden Of mortal misery.
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I only know we loved in vain I only feel-farewell! farewell!
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Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
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To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.
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I have always laid it down as a maxim -and found it justified by experience -that a man and a woman make far better friendships than can exist between two of the same sex -but then with the condition that they never have made or are to make love to each other.
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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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My native land, good night!
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