WIST Quotations

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Beppo,” st. 27 (1818)

Dave — Wed, 17 Jan 2024 16:56:49 +0000

For most men (till by losing rendered sager)
Will back their own opinions by a wager.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Beppo,” st. 27 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Beppo,” st. 34 (1818)

Dave — Wed, 31 Jan 2024 15:16:06 +0000

Then he was faithful too, as well as amorous;
So that no sort of female could complain,
Although they’re now and then a little clamourous,
He never put the pretty souls in pain;
His heart was one of those which most enamour us,
Wax to receive, and marble to retain:
He was a lover of the good old school,
Who still become more constant as they cool.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Beppo,” st. 34 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Beppo,” st. 44 (1818)

Dave — Tue, 27 Feb 2024 15:33:44 +0000

I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth,
And sounds as if it should be writ on satin,
With syllables which breathe of the sweet South,
And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in,
That not a single accent seems uncouth,
Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural,
Which we’re obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Beppo,” st. 44 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 5ff (1809)

Dave — Thu, 29 Jun 2023 15:28:31 +0000

Prepare for rhyme — I’ll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let Satire be my song.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 5ff (1809)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 51ff (1809)

Dave — Thu, 06 Jul 2023 14:30:52 +0000

‘Tis pleasant, sure, to see one’s name in print;
A Book’s a Book, altho’ there’s nothing in’t.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 51ff (1809)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 63ff (1809)

Dave — Thu, 13 Jul 2023 14:28:23 +0000

A man must serve his time to every trade
Save Censure — Critics all are ready made.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 63ff (1809)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 66ff (1809)

Dave — Thu, 03 Aug 2023 14:58:52 +0000

With just enough of learning to misquote.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 66ff (1809)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 205, footnote (1809)

Dave — Wed, 13 Mar 2013 13:45:44 +0000

“Thalaba,” Mr. Southey’s second poem, is written in open defiance of precedent and poetry. Mr. S. wished to produce something novel, and succeeded to a miracle. “Joan of Arc” was marvelous enough, but “Thalaba” was one of those poems “which,” in the words of Porson, “will be read when Homer and Virgil are forgotten, but — not till then.”

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” l. 205, footnote (1809)
(Source)

When one of his earlier works was harshly criticized in the Edinburgh Review, Byron wrote this poem satirizing such critics (and the poetry they like). He refers to Robert Southey's "Thalaba," bringing in a phrase used by classical scholar Richard Porson to refer to Southey's poem "Madoc". Except ...

... Porson doesn't include the "but not till then" phrase in his original comment. A man of subtle but biting humor, it seems likely he intended that as a subversive but deniable reading of "when Homer and Virgil are forgotten". Believing that, multiple writers of the time in turn criticized Byron for crudely spelling out Porson's bon mot (examples: Timbs (1862), Powell/Rogers (1903)).

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Epitaph to a Dog” (1808)

Dave — Mon, 14 Feb 2022 20:20:27 +0000

Near this spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
and all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.
This Praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes,
is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, a DOG

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Epitaph to a Dog” (1808)
(Source)

Carved on the headstone over Boatswain's grave at Newstead Abbey, the family's ancestral home. Byron acquired the dog at age fifteen; Boatswain died of rabies, an endemic disease in England at the time, five years later. Byron wanted to be buried beside him, but the sale of the property made that impossible.

While the rest of the poem is considered Byron's, the first lines may have been written by his friend, John Cam Hobhouse. More discussion here.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “L’Amitié est l’Amour sans Ailes” (1806-12-29, publ. 1832)

Dave — Thu, 22 Jun 2023 15:35:37 +0000

Friendship is Love without his wings!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“L’Amitié est l’Amour sans Ailes” (1806-12-29, publ. 1832)
(Source)

This phrase (which is the translation of the title), or variants of it, are the final line to each stanza of the poem.

Sometimes paraphrased "Friendship is Love without wings."

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Manfred,” Act 1, sc. 1 [Manfred] (1817)

Dave — Wed, 20 Dec 2023 17:40:07 +0000

Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the most
Must mourn the deepest o’er the fatal truth,
The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Manfred,” Act 1, sc. 1 [Manfred] (1817)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Manfred,” Act 2, sc. 4 [First Destiny] (1817)

Dave — Thu, 11 Jan 2024 15:55:58 +0000

Knowledge is not happiness, and science
But an exchange of ignorance for that
Which is another kind of ignorance.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Manfred,” Act 2, sc. 4 [First Destiny] (1817)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Mazeppa,” st. 10, l. 418ff (1819)

Dave — Mon, 10 Apr 2023 14:19:55 +0000

And if we do but watch the hour,
There never yet was human power
Which could evade, if unforgiven,
The patient search and vigil long
Of him who treasures up a wrong.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Mazeppa,” st. 10, l. 418ff (1819)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Parisina,” st. 1 (1816)

Dave — Thu, 15 Jun 2023 14:25:48 +0000

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale’s high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers’ vows
Seem sweet in every whisper’d word.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Parisina,” st. 1 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Prometheus,” st. 1 (1816)

Dave — Tue, 10 Oct 2023 22:43:14 +0000

Titan! to whom immortal eyes
The sufferings of mortality
Seen in their sad reality,
Were not as things that gods despise;
What was thy pity’s recompense?
A silent suffering, and intense;
The rock, the vulture, and the chain,
All that the proud can feel of pain,
The agony they do not show,
The suffocating sense of woe,
Which speaks but in its loneliness,
And then is jealous lest the sky
Should have a listener, nor will sigh
Until its voice is echoless.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Prometheus,” st. 1 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Prometheus,” st. 2 (1816)

Dave — Thu, 02 Nov 2023 15:30:23 +0000

Titan! to thee the strife was given
⁠Between the suffering and the will,
⁠Which torture where they cannot kill;
And the inexorable Heaven,
And the deaf tyranny of Fate,
The ruling principle of Hate,
Which for its pleasure doth create
The things it may annihilate,
Refused thee even the boon to die:
The wretched gift Eternity
Was thine — and thou hast borne it well.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Prometheus,” st. 2 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Prometheus,” st. 3, ll. 35-38 (1816)

Dave — Thu, 09 Nov 2023 15:45:18 +0000

Thy Godlike crime was to be kind,
To render with thy precepts less
The sum of human wretchedness,
And strengthen Man with his own mind.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Prometheus,” st. 3, ll. 35-38 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Prometheus,” st. 3, ll. 44-48 (1816)

Dave — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 13:29:34 +0000

A mighty lesson we inherit:
Thou art a symbol and a sign
To Mortals of their fate and force;
Like thee, Man is in part divine,
A troubled stream from a pure source.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Prometheus,” st. 3, ll. 44-48 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Prometheus,” st. 3, ll. 49-59 (1816)

Dave — Tue, 12 Dec 2023 15:53:25 +0000

And Man in portions can foresee
His own funereal destiny;
His wretchedness, and his resistance,
And his sad unallied existence:
To which his Spirit may oppose
Itself — and equal to all woes,
And a firm will, and a deep sense,
Which even in torture can decry
Its own concenter’d recompense,
Triumphant where it dares defy,
And making Death a Victory.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Prometheus,” st. 3, ll. 49-59 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “She Walks in Beauty,” st. 1 (1814), Hebrew Melodies (1815)

Dave — Wed, 31 Dec 2014 18:31:12 +0000

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:
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“She Walks in Beauty,” st. 1 (1814), Hebrew Melodies (1815)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “So We’ll Go No More A-Roving” (1817)

Dave — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 13:16:40 +0000

So, we’ll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“So We’ll Go No More A-Roving” (1817)
(Source)

Included in a letter to his friend Thomas Moore (28 Feb 1817), in which he complained he'd been up too late on too many night during the Carnival in Venice.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Stanzas for Music,” st. 1 (1815-03)

Dave — Thu, 30 Mar 2023 14:26:20 +0000

There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Stanzas for Music,” st. 1 (1815-03)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “Sun of the Sleepless!” Hebrew Melodies (1815)

Dave — Thu, 14 Sep 2023 14:56:16 +0000

So gleams the past, the light of other days,
Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Sun of the Sleepless!” Hebrew Melodies (1815)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “The Age of Bronze,” st. 1 (1823)

Dave — Tue, 26 Mar 2024 14:29:37 +0000

The “good old times” — all times when old are good —
Are gone.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“The Age of Bronze,” st. 1 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “The Bride of Abydos,” canto 2, st. 20 (1813)

Dave — Thu, 20 Jul 2023 15:50:44 +0000

Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease!
He makes a solitude, and calls it — peace!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“The Bride of Abydos,” canto 2, st. 20 (1813)
(Source)

Adaptation from Tacitus' Agricola.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “The Dream,” st. 2 (1816)

Dave — Thu, 28 Sep 2023 15:54:02 +0000

She was his life,
The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
Which terminated all.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“The Dream,” st. 2 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “The Giaour,” l. 213ff (1813)

Dave — Thu, 27 Jul 2023 14:49:20 +0000

For Freedom’s battle once begun,
Bequeathed by bleeding Sire to Son,
Though baffled oft is ever won.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“The Giaour,” l. 213ff (1813)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “The Giaour,” ll. 969-970 (1813)

Dave — Thu, 03 Nov 2022 14:25:39 +0000

Better to sink beneath the shock
Than moulder piecemeal on the rock!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“The Giaour,” ll. 969-970 (1813)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “The Waltz,” l. 230ff (1813)

Dave — Thu, 25 May 2023 14:34:31 +0000

But ye — who never felt a single thought⁠
For what our Morals are to be, or ought;
Who wisely wish the charms you view to reap,
Say — would you make those beauties quite so cheap?
Hot from the hands promiscuously applied,
Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side,
Where were the rapture then to clasp the form
From this lewd grasp and lawless contact warm?

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“The Waltz,” l. 230ff (1813)
(Source)

The new dance was considered something of a scandal, given its contact between male and female dancers. Published anonymously by Byron.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- “To Thomas Moore,” st. 2. (1817)

Dave — Thu, 06 Apr 2023 14:32:17 +0000

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.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“To Thomas Moore,” st. 2. (1817)
(Source)

First published in The Traveller (1821-01-08).

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- (Attributed)

Dave — Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000

Always laugh when you can; it is cheap medicine.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
(Attributed)

Widely attributed to Byron, but no source cited.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Cain, Act 1, sc. 1 [Cain] (1821)

Dave — Thu, 04 May 2023 14:56:56 +0000

I live,
But live to die: and, living, see no thing
To make death hateful, save an innate clinging,
A loathsome and yet all invincible
Instinct of life, which I abhor, as I
Despise myself, yet cannot overcome —
And so I live. Would I had never lived!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Cain, Act 1, sc. 1 [Cain] (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Cain, Act 1, sc. 1 [Cain] (1821)

Dave — Thu, 27 Apr 2023 15:02:16 +0000

Because
He is all-powerful, must all-good, too, follow?
I judge but by the fruits — and they are bitter —
Which I must feed on for a fault not mine.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Cain, Act 1, sc. 1 [Cain] (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 24 (1812)

Dave — Mon, 09 Sep 2024 15:26:27 +0000

None are so desolate but something dear,
Dearer than self, possesses or possess’d
A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 24 (1812)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 73 (1812)

Dave — Fri, 11 Oct 2024 18:57:59 +0000

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed Worth!
Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 73 (1812)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 76 (1812)

Dave — Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000

Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 76 (1812)
(Source)

Speaking of the Greeks, whose nation was still controlled by the Ottoman Empire. The lines were used by W. E. B. DuBois, along with a line from st. 74, as the epigraph of ch. 3 of The Souls of Black Folks (1903).

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 98 (1812)

Dave — Wed, 23 Oct 2024 23:08:18 +0000

What is the worst of woes that wait on Age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each loved one blotted from Life’s page,
And be alone on earth, as I am now.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 2, st. 98 (1812)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 8 (1816)

Dave — Wed, 15 Jan 2025 15:27:10 +0000

Years steal
Fire from the mind as vigor from the limb;
And life’s enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 8 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 22 (1818)

Dave — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 14:51:16 +0000

On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 22 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 45 (1816)

Dave — Mon, 07 Apr 2025 18:10:01 +0000

He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind
Must look down on the hate of those below.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 45 (1816)
(Source)

In manuscript form, the last line is "Must look down on the hate of all below."

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 113 (1816)

Dave — Mon, 21 Apr 2025 18:28:41 +0000

I have not loved the World, nor the World me;
I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed
To its idolatries a patient knee,
Nor coined my cheek to smiles, — nor cried aloud
In worship of an echo: in the crowd
They could not deem me one of such — I stood
Among them, but not of them — in a shroud
Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could,
Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 3, st. 113 (1816)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 1 (1818)

Dave — Mon, 28 Apr 2025 17:58:55 +0000

I stood in Venice, on the “Bridge of Sighs”;
A Palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the Enchanter’s wand:
A thousand Years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O’er the far times, when many a subject land
Looked to the wingéd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sat in state, throned on her hundred isles!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 1 (1818)
(Source)

This stanza was written by at least 1817-07-01. Much of the legend of the "Bridge of Sighs" (Ponte de' Sospiri) was made up or misunderstood by Byron, but created a myth that tour guides in Venice repeat to this day.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 108 (1818)

Dave — Mon, 05 May 2025 22:57:43 +0000

There is the moral of all human tales;
‘Tis but the same rehearsal of the past,
First Freedom, and then Glory — when that fails,
Wealth — Vice — Corruption, — Barbarism at last.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 108 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 109 (1818)

Dave — Mon, 12 May 2025 18:09:24 +0000

Man!
Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 109 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 178 (1818)

Dave — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 14:11:57 +0000

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 178 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 179 (1818)

Dave — Mon, 19 May 2025 20:03:08 +0000

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin — his control
Stops with the shore.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto 4, st. 179 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Conversations of Lord Byron with Thomas Medwin, Vol. 2 (1832)

Dave — Thu, 23 Mar 2023 14:23:34 +0000

Who knows whether, when a comet shall approach this globe to destroy it, as it often has been and will be destroyed, men will not tear rocks from their foundations by means of steam, and hurl mountains, as the giants are said to have done, against the flaming mass? — and then we shall have traditions of Titans again, and of wars with Heaven.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Conversations of Lord Byron with Thomas Medwin, Vol. 2 (1832)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 63 (1818)

Dave — Wed, 24 Apr 2024 14:51:47 +0000

What men call gallantry, and gods adultery,
Is much more common where the climate’s sultry.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 63 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 83 (1818)

Dave — Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000

Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded
That all the Apostles would have done as they did.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 83 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 123 (1818)

Dave — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 13:20:37 +0000

‘Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog’s honest bark
Bay deep-mouth’d welcome as we draw near home;
‘Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark
Our coming, and look brighter when we come.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 123 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 133 (1818)

Dave — Tue, 10 May 2016 13:47:53 +0000

‘T is pity though, in this sublime world, that
Pleasure’s a sin, and sometimes sin’s a pleasure.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 133 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 213 (1818)

Dave — Tue, 09 Apr 2024 14:27:25 +0000

But now at thirty years my hair is gray ––
(I wonder what it will be like at forty?
I thought of a peruke the other day)
My heart is not much greener; and, in short, I
Have squander’d my whole summer while ’twas May,
And feel no more the spirit to retort; I
Have spent my life, both interest and principal,
And deem not, what I deem’d, my soul invincible.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 213 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 216 (1818)

Dave — Wed, 01 May 2024 14:10:54 +0000

My days of love are over; me no more
The charms of maid, wife, and still less of widow,
Can make the fool of which they made before, —
In short, I must not lead the life I did do;
The credulous hope of mutual minds is o’er,
The copious use of claret is forbid too,
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice,
I think I must take up with avarice.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 216 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 218 (1818)

Dave — Tue, 16 Apr 2024 15:08:18 +0000

What is the end of Fame? ’tis but to fill
A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some liken it to climbing up a hill,
Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour;
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill,
And bards burn what they call their “midnight taper,”
To have, when the original is dust,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 1, st. 218 (1818)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 2, st. 67 (1819)

Dave — Mon, 18 Sep 2017 22:22:20 +0000

But man is a carnivorous production,
And must have meals, at least one meal a day;
He cannot live, like woodcocks, upon suction,
But, like the shark and tiger, must have prey;
Although his anatomical construction
Bears vegetables, in a grumbling way,
Your labouring people think beyond all question,
Beef, veal, and mutton, better for digestion.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 2, st. 67 (1819)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 2, st. 178 (1819)

Dave — Tue, 26 Apr 2016 21:46:53 +0000

Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter,
Sermons and soda water the day after.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 2, st. 178 (1819)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 2, st. 179 (1819)

Dave — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 08:35:56 +0000

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication;
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk
The hopes of all men, and of every nation.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 2, st. 179 (1819)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 3, st. 9 (1821)

Dave — Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000

All tragedies are finish’d by a death,
All comedies are ended by a marriage;
The future states of both are left to faith.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 3, st. 9 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 3, st. 86a “The Isles of Greece,” st. 1 (1821)

Dave — Wed, 05 Jun 2024 14:05:54 +0000

The Isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 3, st. 86a “The Isles of Greece,” st. 1 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 3, st. 88 (1821)

Dave — Tue, 07 May 2024 14:33:46 +0000

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

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 3, st. 88 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 4, st. 1 (1821)

Dave — Tue, 11 Jun 2024 14:18:45 +0000

Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 4, st. 1 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 4, st. 93 (1821)

Dave — Tue, 18 Jun 2024 15:28:11 +0000

These two hated with a hate
Found only on the stage.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 4, st. 93 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 4, st. 4 (1821)

Dave — Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000

And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
‘Tis that I may not weep.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 4, st. 4 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 5, st. 5 (1821)

Dave — Wed, 26 Jun 2024 16:09:22 +0000

There’s not a sea the passenger e’er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 5, st. 5 (1821)
(Source)

The Euxine is the Black Sea, from the Greek Pontos Euxeinos, which means (ironically) "the hospitable sea."

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 5, st. 49 (1821)

Dave — Wed, 03 Jul 2024 14:46:57 +0000

But I digress: of all appeals, — although
I grant the power of pathos, and of gold,
Of beauty, flattery, threats, a shilling, — no
Method’s more sure at moments to take hold
Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow
More tender, as we every day behold,
Than that all-softening, overpowering knell,
The tocsin of the soul — the dinner-bell.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 5, st. 49 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 6, st. 12 (1823)

Dave — Wed, 10 Jul 2024 15:16:39 +0000

Polygamy may well be held in dread,
Not only as a sin, but as a bore:
Most wise men, with one moderate woman wed,
Will scarcely find philosophy for more.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 6, st. 12 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 7, st. 2 (1823)

Dave — Wed, 24 Jul 2024 16:23:32 +0000

But ne’ertheless I hope it is no crime
To laugh at all things — for I wish to know
What, after all, are all things — but a show?

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 7, st. 2 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 8, st. 77 (1823)

Dave — Fri, 14 Mar 2014 12:11:52 +0000

‘Twas blow for blow, disputing inch by inch,
For one would not retreat, nor t’other flinch.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 8, st. 77 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 9, st. 24 (1823)

Dave — Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000

And I will war, at least in words (and — should
My chance so happen — deeds), with all who war
With Thought; — and of Thought’s foes by far most rude,
Tyrants and sycophants have been and are.
I know not who may conquer: if I could
Have such a prescience, it should be no bar
To this my plain, sworn, downright detestation
Of every despotism in every nation.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 9, st. 24 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 9, st. 25 (1823)

Dave — Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000

I wish men to be free
As much from mobs as kings — from you as me.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 9, st. 25 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 9, st. 59 (1823)

Dave — Wed, 31 Jul 2024 19:46:00 +0000

As fall the dews on quenchless sands,
Blood only serves to wash Ambition’s hands!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 9, st. 59 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 11, st. 37 (1823)

Dave — Wed, 07 Aug 2024 15:37:44 +0000

And, after all, what is a lie? ‘T is but
The truth in masquerade; and I defy
Historians, heroes, lawyers. priests, to put
A fact without some leaven of a lie.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 11, st. 37 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 11, st. 90 (1823)

Dave — Tue, 13 May 2014 15:21:43 +0000

I may stand alone,
But would not change my free thoughts for a throne.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 11, st. 90 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 12, st. 1 (1823)

Dave — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 12:37:03 +0000

Our hair
Grows grizzled, and we are not what we were.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 12, st. 1 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 12, st. 12 (1823)

Dave — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 13:41:48 +0000

Yes! ready money is Aladdin’s lamp.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 12, st. 12 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 14, st. 50 (1823)

Dave — Wed, 11 Nov 2015 14:11:00 +0000

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl songs or the midnight blast,
Is that portentous phrase, “I told you so,”
Utter’d by friends, those prophets of the past,
Who, ‘stead of saying what you now should do,
Own they foresaw that you would fall at last.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 14, st. 50 (1823)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 14, st. 101 (1823)

Dave — Thu, 22 Aug 2024 15:26:47 +0000

‘T is strange — but true; for truth is always strange;
Stranger than fiction; if it could be told,
How much would novels gain by the exchange!
How differently the world would men behold!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 14, st. 101 (1823)
(Source)

Apparent origin of the phrase "Truth is stranger than fiction."

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Don Juan, Canto 15, st. 99 (1824)

Dave — Wed, 06 Nov 2013 13:49:56 +0000

How little do we know that which we are!
How less what we may be!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Don Juan, Canto 15, st. 99 (1824)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Lara, Canto 1, st. 3 (1814)

Dave — Thu, 12 Jan 2023 15:35:03 +0000

“Yet doth he live!” exclaims th’ impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Lara, Canto 1, st. 3 (1814)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Marino Faliero, Doge of Venice, Act 1, sc. 1 [Doge] (1821)

Dave — Wed, 18 Mar 2015 15:44:06 +0000

You have deeply ventured;
But all must do so who would greatly win.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Marino Faliero, Doge of Venice, Act 1, sc. 1 [Doge] (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Marino Faliero, Doge of Venice, Act 2, sc. 2 [Israel Bertuccio] (1821)

Dave — Thu, 08 Jun 2023 14:40:44 +0000

They never fail who die
In a great cause.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Marino Faliero, Doge of Venice, Act 2, sc. 2 [Israel Bertuccio] (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Marino Faliero, Doge of Venice, Act 5, sc. 1 (1821)

Dave — Mon, 09 May 2011 12:53:34 +0000

ANGIOLINA: He hath been guilty, but there may be mercy.

BENINTENDE: Not in this case with justice.

ANGIOLINA:Alas! signor,
He who is only just is cruel; who
Upon the earth would live were all judged justly?

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Marino Faliero, Doge of Venice, Act 5, sc. 1 (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- The Corsair, Canto 1, st. 8, l. 184 (1814)

Dave — Thu, 10 Aug 2023 15:19:28 +0000

The power of Thought, — the magic of the Mind!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Corsair, Canto 1, st. 8, l. 184 (1814)
(Source)

The abilities -- plus success -- that Conrad uses to control his crew.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- The Corsair, Canto 1, st. 15, l. 86ff (1814)

Dave — Thu, 17 Aug 2023 16:06:31 +0000

Farewell!
For in that word — that fatal word — howe’er
We promise — hope — believe, — here breathes despair.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Corsair, Canto 1, st. 15, l. 86ff (1814)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- The Corsair, Canto 3, st. 22, l. 1807ff (1814)

Dave — Wed, 30 Aug 2023 14:52:55 +0000

By those, that deepest feel, are ill exprest
The indistinctness of the suffering breast;
Where thousand thoughts begin to end in one,
Which seeks from all the refuge found in none;
No words suffice the secret soul to show.
And Truth denies all eloquence to Woe.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Corsair, Canto 3, st. 22, l. 1807ff (1814)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- The Deformed Transformed, Part 3, sc. 1 [Caesar] (1822)

Dave — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 12:41:29 +0000

He drinks — but what’s drinking?
A mere pause from thinking!

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Deformed Transformed, Part 3, sc. 1 [Caesar] (1822)
(Source)

Singing of veterans after the war, in peacetime.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- The Two Foscari, Act 4, sc. 1 [Loredano] (1821)

Dave — Thu, 10 Dec 2015 15:51:16 +0000

Sorrow preys upon
Its solitude, and nothing diverts it
From its sad visions of the other world
Than calling it at moments back to this.
The busy have no time for tears.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Two Foscari, Act 4, sc. 1 [Loredano] (1821)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Werner, Act 1, sc. 1 [Gabriel] (1822).

Dave — Thu, 11 May 2023 14:43:49 +0000

A goodly fellow by his looks, though worn
As most good fellows are, by pain or pleasure,
Which tear life out of us before our time;
I scarce know which most quickly: but he seems
To have seen better days, as who has not
Who has seen yesterday?

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Werner, Act 1, sc. 1 [Gabriel] (1822).
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Journal (1813-11-27)

Dave — Thu, 16 Mar 2023 14:19:37 +0000

If I valued fame, I should flatter received opinions, which have gathered strength by time, and will yet wear longer than any living works to the contrary. But, for the soul of me, I cannot and will not give the lie to my own thoughts and doubts, come what may. If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Journal (1813-11-27)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Journal (1813-12-06)

Dave — Wed, 09 Sep 2015 14:48:01 +0000

I fear one lies more to one’s self than to anyone else.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Journal (1813-12-06)
(Source)

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Letter (1813-09-28) to Lady Melbourne

Dave — Tue, 11 Mar 2014 12:45:26 +0000

We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Letter (1813-09-28) to Lady Melbourne

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Letter (1818-05-09) to John Murray

Dave — Thu, 28 May 2009 14:44:37 +0000

Opinions are made to be changed — or how is truth to be got at?

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Letter (1818-05-09) to John Murray

Byron, George Gordon, Lord -- Letter (1820-11-05) to Thomas Moore

Dave — Thu, 13 Apr 2023 14:36:57 +0000

To do good to mankind is the chivalrous plan,
And is always as nobly requited;
Then battle for freedom wherever you can.
And, if not shot or hang’d, you’ll get knighted.

George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
Letter (1820-11-05) to Thomas Moore
(Source)