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Eat, drink and love...the rest is not worth a nickel
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
Nickel
Nickels
Drink
Worth
Rest
Love
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The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.
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We have fools in all sects, and impostors in most why should I believe mysteries no one can understand, because written by men who chose to mistake madness for inspiration and style themselves Evangelicals?
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No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
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Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext'rous some by features Are brought up, others by a warlike leader Some by a place--as tend their years or natures The most by ready cash--but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.
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What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common where the climate's sultry.
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The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains--beautiful! I linger yet with nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man, and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learned the language of another world.
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I am always most religious upon a sunshiny day.
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I die but first I have possessed, And come what may, I have been blessed.
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'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming, and look brighter when we come.
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For truth is always strange stranger than fiction.
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I slept and dreamt that life was beauty I woke and found that life was duty.
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I loved my country, and I hated him.
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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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Admire, exult, despise, laugh, weep for here There is such matter for all feelings: Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
Lord Byron
Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?
Lord Byron
Ah, happy years! once more who would not be a boy?
Lord Byron
I would rather have a nod from an American, than a snuff- box from an emperor.
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This is to be along this, this is solitude!
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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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Opinions are made to be changed or how is truth to be got at?
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