Lord Byron Quotes - Page 7

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Kill a man's family, and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.

It is very iniquitous to make me pay my debts - you have no idea of the pain it gives one.

I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common where the climate's sultry.

Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.

Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?

He learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress - or a nunnery.

They used to say that knowledge is power. I used to think so, but I know now they mean money.

For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?

As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.

Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure, there is no sterner moralist than pleasure.

A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.

I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.

Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.

When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter." And proved it--'t was no matter what he said.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolished the right arm Of his country.

But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.

What want these outlaws conquerors should have but history's purchased page to call them great?

Yet smelt roast meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.

Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler, And daughters sometimes run off with the butler.

Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it.

There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in, Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

[Armenian] is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it.

'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print. A book's a book, although there's nothing in 't.

I am surrounded here by parsons and methodists, but as you will see, not infested with the mania.

I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.

Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please, the more because they preach in vain

All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

Sometimes we are less unhappy in being deceived by those we love, than in being undeceived by them.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolish'd the right arm Of his own country.

A woman who gives any advantage to a man may expect a lover but will sooner or later find a tyrant.

Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.

With thee all tales are sweet; each clime has charms; earth - sea alike - our world within our arms.

Maidens, like moths, are ever caught, by glare, And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.

Shelley is truth itself and honour itself notwithstanding his out-of-the-way notions about religion.

A woman who gives any advantage to a man may expect a lover - but will sooner or later find a tyrant.

In itself a thought, a slumbering thought is capable of years; and curdles a long life into one hour.

Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded. That all the Apostles would have done as they did.

The sight of blood to crowds begets the thirst of more, As the first wine-cup leads to the long revel.

Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.

It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time.

There is, in fact, no law or government at all; and it is wonderful how well things go on without them.

Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.

There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.

Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast.

To withdraw myself from myself has ever been my sole, my entire, my sincere motive in scribbling at all.

I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.

The cold, the changed, perchance the dead, anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost,-too many, yet how few!

Brisk Confidence still best with woman copes: Pique her and soothe in turn-soon Passion crowns thy hopes.

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