Lord Byron

Lord Byron

George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron (22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824), commonly known simply as Lord Byron, was a British poet, peer, politician, and a leading figure in the Romantic movement. Among his best-known works are the lengthy narrative poems, Don Juan and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and the short lyric poem, "She Walks in Beauty".

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I awoke one morning and found myself famous.

But I hate things all fiction... there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric - and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.

Letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company

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

She / Was married charming chaste and twenty-three.

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

Friendship is Love without his wings!

His heart was one of those which most enamour us / Wax to receive and marble to retain.

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.

Christians have burnt each other quite persuaded that all the Apostles would have done as they did

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

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

Talent may be in time forgiven but genius never

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

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

The tourture we desire is the greatest of all.

I would rather have a nod from an American than a snuff-box from an emperor.

A tigress robb'd of young a lioness Or any interesting beast of prey Are similes at hand for the distress Of ladies who cannot have their own way

All human history attests, That happiness for man - the hungry sinner! Since Eve ate apples much depends on dinner.

What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page And be alone on earth as I am now

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