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No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
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
Eloquence
Deny
Secret
Show
Words
Shows
Suffice
Truth
Denies
Soul
Woe
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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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In solitude, when we are least alone.
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A woman who gives any advantage to a man may expect a lover - but will sooner or later find a tyrant.
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My altars are the mountains and the ocean.
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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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I was accused of every monstrous vice by public rumour and private rancour my name, which had been a knightly or noble one, was tainted. I felt that, if what was whispered, and muttered, and murmured, was true, I was unfit for England if false, England was unfit for me.
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The fact is that my wife if she had common sense would have more power over me than any other whatsoever, for my heart always alights upon the nearest perch.
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Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!
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A timid mind is apt to mistake every scratch for a mortal wound.
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Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange, Although he fleeced the flags of every nation, For into a prime minister but change His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation.
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Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
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Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
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What is Death, so it be but glorious? 'Tis a sunset And mortals may be happy to resemble The Gods but in decay.
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And life 's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
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All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
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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 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.
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It is when we think we lead that we are most led.
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My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.
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None are so desolate but something dear, Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.
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