More Quotes by Lord Byron
What's drinking? A mere pause from thinking!
The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonised the whole — And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!
Think not I am what I appear.
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
To have joy, one must share it.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the Glowing Hours with Flying feet.
If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.
The dew of compassion is a tear.
Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world; whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.
The mind can make substance, and people planets of its own with beings brighter than have been, and give a breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
