I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne misplaced in life. I… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They have a weight upon our… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
The mind can make substance, and people planets of its own with beings brighter than have been, and give a breath to… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
My beautiful, my own My only Venice-this is breath! Thy breeze Thine Adrian sea-breeze, how it fans my face! Thy very winds… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
I have not loved the World, nor the World me; I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed To its idolatries… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse -- borne away with every breath! — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
A sleep without dreams, after a rough day of toil, is what we covet most; and yet How clay shrinks back from… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
Your thief looks Exactly like the rest, or rather better; 'Tis only at the bar, and in the dungeon, That wise men know your… — Lord Byron Copy Share
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… — Lord Byron Copy Share
“We of the craft are all crazy. Some are affected by gaiety, others by melancholy, but all are more or less touched.” — Lord Byron Copy Share
Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it. — Lord Byron Copy Share
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. — Lord Byron Copy Share
For most men (till by losing rendered sager), Will back their own opinions by a wager — Lord Byron Copy Share
It is by far the most elegant worship, hardly excepting the Greek mythology. What with incense, pictures, statues, altars, shrines, relics, and the real… — Lord Byron Copy Share
I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me - I have been more ravished myself than anybody since… — Lord Byron Copy Share
O thou beautiful And unimaginable ether! and Ye multiplying masses of increased And still increasing lights! what are ye? what Is this blue wilderness… — Lord Byron Copy Share
