1,065 Quotes by Lord Byron

That famish'd people must be slowly nurst, and fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst.

It is when we think we lead that we are most led.

Glory, like the phoenix 'midst her fires, Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.

Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.

But first, on earth as vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent, Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race. There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life, Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse. Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem.

This is to be along; this, this is solitude!

Maid of Athens, ere we part, / Give, oh give me back my heart!

The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation, And for the bass, the beast can only bellow; In fact, he had no singing education, An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow.

But stories somehow lengthen when begun.