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I speak not of men's creeds—they rest between Man and his Maker.
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
Makers
Rest
Religion
Speak
Men
Maker
Creeds
More quotes by Lord Byron
I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.
Lord Byron
...And these vicissitudes come best in youth For when they happen at a riper age, People are apt to blame the Fates, forsooth, And wonder Providence is not more sage. Adversity is the first path to truth: He who hath proved war, storm, or woman's rage, Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty, Has won experience which is deem'd so weighty.
Lord Byron
Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
Lord Byron
We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
Lord Byron
In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
Lord Byron
Better to sink beneath the shock Than moulder piecemeal on the rock!
Lord Byron
The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.
Lord Byron
Just as old age is creeping on space, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, They kindly leave us, though not quite alone, But in good company--the gout or stone.
Lord Byron
A small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions... think.
Lord Byron
Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.
Lord Byron
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
Lord Byron
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.
Lord Byron
Opinions are made to be changed or how is truth to be got at?
Lord Byron
Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
Lord Byron
My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.
Lord Byron
The very best of vineyards is the cellar
Lord Byron
Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.
Lord Byron
Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till-'t is gone, and all is gray.
Lord Byron
No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
Lord Byron
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.
Lord Byron
