Zitate von Lord George Gordon Byron
Ein bekanntes Zitat von Lord George Gordon Byron:
Das Wichtigste an der Kochkunst scheint mir nicht der Einfallsreichtum der Köche zu sein, sondern die Phantasie derjenigen, die für die gleichen Gerichte immer neue Namen erfinden.
Informationen über Lord George Gordon Byron
Poet, "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage", "Cain", "Lara", galt außerhalb Englands als "schillernde Persönlichkeit" mit großem Einfluß (England, 1788 - 1824).
Lord George Gordon Byron · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum
Lord George Gordon Byron wäre heute 236 Jahre, 2 Monate, 6 Tage oder 86.263 Tage alt.
Geboren am 22.01.1788 in London
Gestorben am 19.04.1824 in Missolunghi
Sternzeichen: ♒ Wassermann
Unbekannt
Weitere 343 Zitate von Lord George Gordon Byron
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Oh! too convincing-dangerously dear- In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!
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Old man! 'tis not so difficult to die.
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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.
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Once more upon the waters! yet once more! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed That knows his rider.
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One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer.
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Our cloudy climate, and our chilly women.
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Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
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Polygamy may well be held in dread, / Not only as a sin but as a bore.
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Proud Wellington, with eagle beak so curled, That nose, the hook where he suspends the world!
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Quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.
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Ready money is Aladdin's lamp.
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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.
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Sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer.
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Satan met his ancient friend With more hauteur, as might an old Castilian Poor noble meet a mushroom rich civilian.
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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 mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
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Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.
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Sleep hath its own world, / And a wide realm of wild reality.
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Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun; Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light.
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Smiles form the channel of a future tear.
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So bright the tear in Beauty's eye, Love half regrets to kiss it dry.