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This is to be along this, this is solitude!
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
Along
Solitude
More quotes by Lord Byron
Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
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I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.
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The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, and feel for what their duty bids them do.
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I do not believe in any religion, I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.
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Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
Lord Byron
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.
Lord Byron
I learned to love despair.
Lord Byron
It is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
Lord Byron
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
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Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.
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Then farewell, Horace whom I hated so, Not for thy faults, but mine.
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A drop of ink may make a million think.
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Friendship is Love without his wings!
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In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.
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Life is too short for chess.
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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.
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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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And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!
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Grief is fantastical, and loves the dead, And the apparel of the grave.
Lord Byron
I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me - I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war.
Lord Byron