In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper: Some liken it to climbing up… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
Are we aware of our obligations to a mob? It is the mob that labor in your fields and serve in your… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me! — 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 Image
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 Image
“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 Image
Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it. — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
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 Image
For most men (till by losing rendered sager), Will back their own opinions by a wager — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
