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The image of Eternity--the throne Of the Invisible even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made each zone Obeys thee thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
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
Made
Thou
Slime
Thee
Throne
Image
Thrones
Eternity
Dread
Ocean
Zone
Deep
Monsters
Alone
Forth
Fathomless
Even
Invisible
Obeys
More quotes by Lord Byron
Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
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If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
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There is something to me very softening in the presence of a woman, some strange influence, even if one is not in love with them, which I cannot at all account for, having no very high opinion of the sex. But yet, I always feel in better humor with myself and every thing else, if there is a woman within ken.
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Champagne with its foaming whirls/As white as Cleopatra's pearls.
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In commitment, we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.
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And the commencement of atonement is the sense of its necessity.
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In solitude, when we are least alone.
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Tis said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others.
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This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
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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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I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting.
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My slumbers--if I slumber--are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not: in my heart There is a vigil, and these eyes but close To look within and yet I live, and bear The aspect and the form of breathing men.
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Like to the apples on the Dead Sea's shore, All ashes to the taste.
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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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The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonised the whole — And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!
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Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylæ!
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And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!
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All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
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It is true from early habit, one must make love mechanically as one swims I was once very fond of both, but now as I never swim unless I tumble into the water, I don't make love till almost obliged.
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And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy They have a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being.
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