Lord Byron Quotes
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"Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored."
"In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy."
"'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print. A book's a book, although there's nothing in 't."
"Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray."
"What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little."
"Sometimes we are less unhappy in being deceived by those we love, than in being undeceived by them."
"But words are things, and a small drop of ink,Falling like dew, upon a thought, producesThat which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think."
"Let these describe the indescribable."
"For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction."
"I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting."
"He who surpasses or subdues mankind, must look down on the hate of those below."
"What an antithetical mind! - tenderness, roughness - delicacy, coarseness - sentiment, sensuality - soaring and groveling, dirt and deity - all mixed up in that one compound of inspired clay!"
"It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe -you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep."
"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."
"Man's love is of man's life a part; it is a woman's whole existence. In her first passion, a woman loves her lover, in all the others all she loves is love."
"Roll on, deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin, but his control stops with the shore."
"The dead have been awakened - shall I sleep? The world's at war with tyrants - shall I crouch? the harvest's ripe - and shall I pause to reap? I slumber not; the thorn is in my couch; Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear, its echo in my heart."
"But - Oh! ye lords of ladies intellectual, inform us truly, have they not hen-pecked you all?"
"John Adams lies here, of the parish of Southwell, a carrier who carried his can to his mouth well; he carried so much, and he carried so fast, he could carry no more - so was carried at last; for the liquor he drank, being too much for one, he could not carry off - so he's now carri-on."
"There is, in fact, no law or government at all [in Italy]; and it is wonderful how well things go on without them."
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