Lord Byron

And dreams in their development have breath,And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,They take a weight from off our waking toils,They do divide our being.

Oh! too convincing - dangerously dear - In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!

[Poetry] is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.

Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.

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

How sweet and soothing is this hour of calm! I thank thee, night! for thou has chased away these horrid bodements which, amidst the throng, I could not dissipate; and with the blessing of thy benign and quiet influence now will I to my couch, although to rest is almost wronging such a night as this.

I'll publish right or wrong. Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin.

Society is now one polished horde, --- Formed of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bored.

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

A pretty woman is a welcome guest.

Italia! Oh Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty

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

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.

In the desert a fountain is springing,In the wide waste there still is a tree,And a bird in the solitude singing,Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

Opinions are made to be changed - or how is the truth to be got at.

On with the dance! Let joy be undefined!