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Yet smelt roast meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.

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
Huge
Roast
Fire
Shine
Motion
Cooks
Meat
Smelt
Shining
Bared
Clean
Beheld
Arms
Cookery

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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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Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his main-spring of Mind. But God help us all! It is at present a sad jar of atoms.
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Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.
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And wrinkles, the damned democrats, won't flatter.
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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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Friendship is Love without his wings!
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Folly loves the martyrdom of fame.
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Land of lost gods and godlike men.
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With thee all tales are sweet each clime has charms earth - sea alike - our world within our arms.
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Go let thy less than woman's hand Assume the distaff not the brand.
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Socrates said, our only knowledge was To know that nothing could be known a pleasant Science enough, which levels to an ass Each Man of Wisdom, future, past, or present. Newton, (that Proverb of the Mind,) alas! Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only like a youth Picking up shells by the great Ocean-Truth.
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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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And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.
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Though the day of my Destiny 's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.
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America is a model of force and freedom and moderation - with all the coarseness and rudeness of its people.
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Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
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I speak not of men's creeds—they rest between Man and his Maker.
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If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
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Tis an old lesson time approves it true, And those who know it best, deplore it most When all is won that all desire to woo, The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.
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Then farewell, Horace whom I hated so, Not for thy faults, but mine.
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