80+ Lord Byron Quotes On Vision of Love and Nature

Good work and joyous play go hand in hand. When play stops, old age begins. Play keeps you from taking life too seriously.

If I am a fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.

And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.

Shakespeare’s name, you may depend on it, stands absurdly too high and will go down.

Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.

There are four questions of value in life… What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living “for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.

Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.

I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting.

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

I slept and dreamt that life was beauty; I woke and found that life was duty.

All who joy would win Must share it — Happiness was born a twin.

If I do not write to empty my mind, I go mad.

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

A drop of ink may make a million think.

The best prophet of the future is the past.

In England the only homage that they pay to Virtue – is hypocrisy.

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

Every day confirms my opinion on the superiority of a vicious life – and if Virtue is not its own reward I don’t know any other stipend annexed to it.

The heart will break but broken live on.

There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing but doubt everything.

To have joy, one must share it.

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

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

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

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

I should be very willing to redress men’s wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.

The Devil was the first democrat.

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

I have always believed that all things depended upon Fortune, and nothing upon ourselves.

You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?

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

Of religion I know nothing — at least, in its favor.

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

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.

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

And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.

Wives in their husbands’ absences grow subtler, And daughters sometimes run off with the butler.

Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

There are some feelings Time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake.

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

Eat, drink, and love…the rest is not worth a nickel.

Like measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.

I had a dream, which was not at all a dream.

A woman who gives any advantage to a man may expect a lover – but will sooner or later find a tyrant.

Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?

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

It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe – you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.

The dew of compassion is a tear.

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.

Self-love forever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it.

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.

Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon’s verge.

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

Fare thee well, and if forever Still forever fare thee well.

The poor dog, in life the firmest friend, the first to welcome, the foremost to defend.

Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

They used to say that knowledge is power. I used to think so, but I know now they mean money.

To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learned to think.

This is the age of oddities let loose.

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

History, with all her volumes vast, hath but one page.

Why do they call me Misanthrope? Because They hate me, not them.

Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were.

Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.

What deep wounds ever closed without a scar? The hearts bleed longest and heals but to wear That which disfigures it

Here’s a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate; And whatever sky’s above me, Here’s a heart for every fate.

A timid mind is apt to mistake every scratch for a mortal wound.

Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.

Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried?

Eternity forbids thee to forget.

Despair and Genius are too oft connected.

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it.

I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long – such a strange melange of good and evil.

Be warm, be pure, be amorous, but be chaste.

I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

What deep wounds ever closed without a scar? The hearts bleed longest and heal but to wear That which disfigures it.

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.

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

Adversity is the first path to truth.

There is music in all things if men had ears.

I love not man the less, but nature more.

Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.

What deep wounds ever closed without a scar?

Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire – in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?

I am ashes where once I was fire…

Truth is a gem that is found at a great depth; whilst on the surface of the world all things are weighed by the false scale of custom.

Life’s enchanted cup sparkles near the brim.