And if I laugh at any mortal thing This that I may not weep.
The Roman Catholics must know as well as we do that 'Popery' when encouraged by government has always been dangerous to the liberties of the people.
The mad, cruel, and accursed American war.
David and his followers taught no new doctrines, in their dispersion or when they came to power, that can be brought to countenance thee at all in shaving off thy beard.
There is no such thing as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake, or an eternal fever. Besides, who would ever shave themselves in such a state?
Come, lay thy head upon my breast and I'll kiss thee unto rest.
My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.
I am ashes where once I was fire...
Let him! He is great but in his greatness he is no happier than we in our conflict! Goodness would not make evil; and what else hath he made? but let him sit on his vast solitary throne, creating worlds to make eternity less burthensome to his immense existence.
A woman who gives any advantage to a man may expect a lover but will sooner or later find a tyrant.
If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.
Shakespeare's name, you may depend on it, stands absurdly too high and will go down.
The English winter - ending in July to recommence in August.
As if her veins ran lightning.
Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality, And dreams in their development have breath, And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.
Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it.
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.
Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen.
The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted.
Ah me! what hand can pencil guide, or pen, To follow half on which the eye dilates Through views more dazzling unto mortal ken. Than those whereof such things the bard relates, Who to the awe-struck world unlocked Elysium's gates?
This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.
Yes! ready money is Aladdin's lamp.
Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.
But who, alas! can love, and then be wise?
Just as I had formed a tolerable establishment my travels commenced, and on my return I find all to do over again; my former flock were all scattered; some married, not before it was needful.
Years steal fire from the mind as vigor from the limb; and life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
So, we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright. II For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. III.
Poetry is a distinct faculty, - it won't come when called, - you may as well whistle for a wind.
Gwynned lies two days westwards; still further south, the weregeld calls. Mayhap with All-Father Woden's favour, my deeds may yet inspire the skalds.
You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
In this way Byron's take on the human condition becomes closer to the fractured collage of 20th century existentialists: a conflicted human nature posited within a harsh and painful environment where self-less compassion is essential to human progress, but is rewarded with torture and suffering.
I doubt sometimes whether a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me - yet I sometimes long for it.
So much alarmed that she is quite alarming.
I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.
A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them.
I am at length joined to Bologna, where I am settled like a sausage.
It is very iniquitous to make me pay my debts, you have no idea of the pain it gives one.
Hate is by far the greatest pleasure; men love in haste, but detest in leisure.
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it.
They grieved for those who perished with the cutter, and also for the biscuit casks and butter.
Old man! 'Tis not difficult to die.
Sincerity may be humble but she cannot be servile.
Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?
Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried.
The great object of life is sensation- to feel that we exist, even though in pain.
Oh! Many a time and oft had Harold loved, or dream'd he'd loved since Rapture is a dream.
History, with all her volumes vast, hath but one page.
