Lord Byron Quotes

453 Sourced Quotes

This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.

Lord Byron
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!

Lord Byron
May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill, And tailors' lays be longer than their bill! While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes, And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.

Lord Byron
Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay, Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme, Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

Lord Byron
Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave, Then some leap'd overboard with fearful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave.

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

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

Lord Byron
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.

Lord Byron
The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue, Splitting some planet with its beautiful tail, As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.

Lord Byron
I cannot describe to you the despairing sensation of trying to do something for a man who seems incapable or unwilling to do anything further for himself.

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

Lord Byron
I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women, And pity lovers rather more than seamen.

Lord Byron
Well, well, the world must turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, And as the veering winds shift, shift our sails.

Lord Byron
Many are poets, but without the name;For what is Poesy but to createFrom overfeeling Good or Ill; and aimAt an external life beyond our fate,And be the new Prometheus of new men,Bestowing fire from Heaven, and then, too late,Finding the pleasure given repaid with pain

Lord Byron
Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!

Lord Byron
Yon Sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight; Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native land-Good Night!

Lord Byron
It is not for minds like ours to give or to receive flatter; yet the praises of sincerity have ever been permitted to the voice of friendship

Lord Byron
Oh, nature's noblest gift, my grey goose quill, Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will, Torn from the parent bird to form a pen, That mighty instrument of little men.

Lord Byron
Perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save.

Lord Byron
To what gulfs A single deviation from the track Of human duties leads even those who claim The homage of mankind as their born due, And find it, till they forfeit it themselves!

Lord Byron
Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire, A million scarce would quench desire; Still would I steep my lips in bliss, And dwell an age on every kiss; Nor then my soul should sated be, Still would I kiss and cling to thee: Nought should my kiss from thine dissever, Still would we kiss and kiss for ever; E'en though the numbers did exceed The yellow harvest's countless seed; To part would be a vain endeavour: Could I desist? -ah! never-never.

Lord Byron
Tis said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others.

Lord Byron
A sleep without dreams, after a rough day of toil, is what we covet most; and yet
How clay shrinks back from more quiescent clay!
The very Suicide that pays his debt at once without installments
(an old way of paying debts, which creditors regret)
Lets out impatiently his rushing breath, less from disgust of life than dread of death.

Lord Byron
For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.

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

Lord Byron
Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.

Lord Byron
Above me are the Alps, The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, And throned Eternity in icy halls.

Lord Byron
Pythagoras, Locke, Socrates - but pages might be filled up, as vainly as before, with the sad usage of all sorts of sages, who in his life-time, each was deemed a bore! The loftiest minds outrun their tardy ages.

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

Lord Byron
So bright the tear in Beauty's eye, Love half regrets to kiss it dry.

Lord Byron