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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
Came
Spiritual
Body
Soul
Enclosed
Allow
Certainly
Imagine
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Fills The air around with beauty.
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I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.
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Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story The days of our youth are the days of our glory And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
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The reason that adulation is not displeasing is that, though untrue, it shows one to be of consequence enough, in one way or other, to induce people to lie.
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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.
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You should have a softer pillow than my heart.
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The devil was the first democrat
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The very best of vineyards is the cellar
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The premises are so delightfully extensive, that two people might live together without ever seeing, hearing or meeting.
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The great object of life is Sensation - to feel that we exist - even though in pain - it is this craving void which drives us to gaming - to battle - to travel - to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.
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And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.
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Bologna is celebrated for producing popes, painters, and sausage.
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I only know we loved in vain I only feel-farewell! farewell!
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Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art, For there thy habitation is the heart-- The heart which love of thee alone can bind And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd-- To fetters and damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom.
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'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print. A book's a book, although there's nothing in 't.
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Bread has been made (indifferent) from potatoes And galvanism has set some corpses grinning, But has not answer'd like the apparatus Of the Humane Society's beginning, By which men are unsuffocated gratis: What wondrous new machines have late been spinning.
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Truth is a gem that is found at a great depth whilst on the surface of the world all things are weighed by the false scale of custom.
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Eat, drink and love...the rest is not worth a nickel
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And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.
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Eternity forbids thee to forget.
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