Lord Byron
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"George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron", later "George Gordon Noel, 6th Baron Byron", Royal Society/FRS, commonly known simply as "Lord Byron", was an English poet and a leading figure in the Romanticism/Romantic movement. Among Byron's best-known works are the lengthy narrative poems Don Juan (Byron)/Don Juan and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage and the short lyric She Walks in Beauty.

Byron is regarded as one of the greatest British poets, and remains widely read and influential. He travelled all over Europe especially in Italy where he lived for seven years and then joined the Greek War of Independence fighting the Ottoman Empire, for which Greeks revere him as a Folk hero/national hero.

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A pretty woman is a welcome guest.

Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.

In solitude, where we are least alone.

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.

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

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

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.

I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.

On with the dance! Let joy be undefined!

Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.

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

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

If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.

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

Sweet is revenge - especially to women.

Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.

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

If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? - With silence and tears.

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

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.

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

I stood / Among them, but not of them; in a shroud / Of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

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.

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

Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.

With just enough of learning to misquote.

Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure; Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.

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

What a strange thing man is; and what a stranger thing woman.

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.