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One certainly has a soul but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.

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
Enclosed
Allow
Certainly
Imagine
Came
Spiritual
Body
Soul

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Land of lost gods and godlike men.
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Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
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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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The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.
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He who is only just is cruel who Upon the earth would live were all judged justly?
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Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?
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Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave, Then some leap'd overboard with fearful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave.
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But as to women, who can penetrate the real sufferings of their she condition? Man's very sympathy with their estate has much of selfishness and more suspicion. Their love, their virtue, beauty, education, but form good housekeepers, to breed a nation.
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In solitude, when we are least alone.
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I suppose we shall soon travel by air-vessels make air instead of sea voyages and at length find our way to the moon, in spite of the want of atmosphere.
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Then farewell, Horace whom I hated so, Not for thy faults, but mine.
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A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
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She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
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But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.
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This is to be along this, this is solitude!
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Why I came here, I know not where I shall go it is useless to inquire - in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?
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Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
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Like to the apples on the Dead Sea's shore, All ashes to the taste.
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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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Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
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