Lord Byron

Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship

love


Lord Byron

This is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies, and for saving souls. All propagated with the best intentions.

age


Lord Byron

I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.

alone


Lord Byron

Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.

alone


Lord Byron

A man of eighty has outlived probably three new schools of painting, two of architecture and poetry and a hundred in dress.

architecture


Lord Byron

The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.

art


Lord Byron

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk the best of life is but intoxication.

best


Lord Byron

This is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies, and for saving souls. All propagated with the best intentions.

best


Lord Byron

If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.

business


Lord Byron

Opinions are made to be changed - or how is truth to be got at?

change


Lord Byron

Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.

fear


Lord Byron

This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.

fear


Lord Byron

America is a model of force and freedom and moderation - with all the coarseness and rudeness of its people.

freedom


Lord Byron

Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.

friendship


Lord Byron

Friendship is Love without his wings!

friendship


Lord Byron

Smiles form the channels of a future tear.

future


Lord Byron

Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people.

god


Lord Byron

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.

god


Lord Byron

The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.

great


Lord Byron

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

great


Lord Byron

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

great


Lord Byron

They never fail who die in a great cause.

great


Lord Byron

All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.

happiness


Lord Byron

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

happiness


Lord Byron

But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.

hope


Lord Byron

This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.

hope


Lord Byron

Lovers may be - and indeed generally are - enemies, but they never can be friends, because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a something of Self in all their speculations.

jealousy


Lord Byron

Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.

knowledge


Lord Byron

Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.

life


Lord Byron

Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.

life


Lord Byron

Absence - that common cure of love.

love


Lord Byron

Friendship is Love without his wings!

love


Lord Byron

Who loves, raves.

love


Lord Byron

Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.

love


Lord Byron

Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.

love


Lord Byron

Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.

men


Lord Byron

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

men


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