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Hearts will break - yet brokenly, live on.
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
Live
Heart
Hearts
Friendship
Break
Friends
Inspirational
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The heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old!-- The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.
Lord Byron
In itself a thought, a slumbering thought is capable of years and curdles a long life into one hour.
Lord Byron
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
Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.
Lord Byron
But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
Lord Byron
What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common where the climate's sultry.
Lord Byron
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
Lord Byron
Perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save.
Lord Byron
I depart, Whither I know not but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
Lord Byron
Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.
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Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
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[Armenian] is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it.
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Come what may, I have been blest.
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Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, and broke the die.
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The Niobe of nations! there she stands.
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Hatred is the madness of the heart.
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Few things surpass old wine and they may preach Who please, the more because they preach in vain
Lord Byron
I was accused of every monstrous vice by public rumour and private rancour my name, which had been a knightly or noble one, was tainted. I felt that, if what was whispered, and muttered, and murmured, was true, I was unfit for England if false, England was unfit for me.
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History - the devil's scripture
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Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.
Lord Byron