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But 'why then publish?' There are no rewards Of fame or profit when the world grows weary. I ask in turn why do you play at cards? Why drink? Why read? To make some hour less dreary. It occupies me to turn back regards On what I've seen or pondered, sad or cheery, And what I write I cast upon the stream To swim or sink. I have had at least my dream.
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More Quotes by Lord Byron
Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.
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!
A drop of ink may make a million think.
Admire, exult, despise, laugh, weep for here There is such matter for all feelings: Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
The dew of compassion is a tear.
If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.
...And these vicissitudes come best in youth; For when they happen at a riper age, People are apt to blame the Fates, forsooth, And wonder Providence is not more sage. Adversity is the first path to truth: He who hath proved war, storm, or woman's rage, Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty, Has won experience which is deem'd so weighty.
Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world; whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.
The premises are so delightfully extensive, that two people might live together without ever seeing, hearing or meeting.
The best prophet of the future is the past.
