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Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
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
Whose
Frown
Went
Withdrawn
Water
Veil
Hate
Veils
Would
Waters
Sunless
Like
Twilight
Assail
Mask
Twas
Waste
Disclose
More quotes by Lord Byron
The heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old!-- The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.
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Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?
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I loved my country, and I hated him.
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The heart will break, but broken live on.
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Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.
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Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen.
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For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
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Opinions are made to be changed or how is truth to be got at?
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The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
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Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
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And the commencement of atonement is the sense of its necessity.
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Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.
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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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Kill a man's family, and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.
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Tis said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others.
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What should I have known or written had I been a quiet, mercantile politician or a lord in waiting? A man must travel, and turmoil, or there is no existence.
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Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
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I hate all pain, Given or received we have enough within us The meanest vassal as the loftiest monarch, Not to add to each other's natural burden Of mortal misery.
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There is music in all things, if men had ears.
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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.
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