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Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story The days of our youth are the days of our glory And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
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
Talk
Twenties
Though
Glory
Story
Youth
Two
Sweet
Myrtle
Stories
Worth
Ivy
Ever
Name
Laurels
Great
Days
Twenty
Names
Plenty
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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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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.
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Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.
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When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past - For years fleet away with the wings of the dove - The dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
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Ah, happy years! once more who would not be a boy?
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No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
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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.
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If a man proves too clearly and convincingly to himself...that a tiger is an optical illusion--well, he will find out he is wrong. The tiger will himself intervene in the discussion, in a manner which will be in every sense conclusive.
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The French courage proceeds from vanity
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And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.
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By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.
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One certainly has a soul but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.
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O ye! who teach the ingenious youth of nations, Holland, France, England, Germany or Spain, I pray ye flog them upon all occasions, It mends their morals, never mind the pain.
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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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[Armenian] is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it.
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Hearts will break - yet brokenly, live on.
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...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.
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The heart will break, but broken live on.
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