Author of quotes: George Gordon Byron. Page 2

Day - like a Dolphin who's dying,
Changes in colors only because
To become at the last moment, is most beautiful.

Exhausted from jealousy and anguish
I saw your child;
But he reached out to me with a smile hands
And kissing passionately, I was his.
I kissed, keeping the involuntary sigh
That the father he resembled,
But it's your opinion, and I quite
Oh, I loved him.

We are all slaves, for that matter, -
Slaves of the passions, whims, pleasures.
With time warmth
And kindness to us are dying, unfortunately.
The art of living, since to tell the truth,
In fact, that our neighbors do not suffer.

Love the passion and stifles and oppresses
Family relationships procedure:
Young lover happy in bloom,
And the young husband is already looking rather downcast.
No one in the great poetry does not sing
Marital happiness: be Laura
Poinciana with Petrarch - God
To write sonnets if he could not!

To whom, when white beard
Be prevented, as a young man, in love?
We love regardless of the year.

There is enjoyment in the trackless thickets,
Joy is on a mountain slope,
Melody - the surf waves boiling,
And voices - in the desert silence.
People love nature closer to me
And what was, and what I go
I get alone with her.
In his soul the whole world is a huge feeling,
Nor to conceal, nor Express the feeling I can not.

Be patient and thoughts - build in itself
The world internal to external not to see:
Break in their earthly nature
And attach spiritual beginning!

He did not understand, who does not love
The anguish of separation from lady,
When we kiss dlim,
Saying goodbye to someone heart lived.
And this torment there's no one stronger:
The end of love, hopes, desires...
A final farewell with her
The most delicate of all the goodbyes.

But, before that, from the grave
You should again out in the world
And as a monstrous vampire
Under the roof to come native
And you drinking there blood alive
Their own children.
In the darkness of the lingering night,
Fate and cursing the sky,
Under the shelter of the gloomy silence
Will dig into the chest of children, wives,
Moments of life shortening.
But before you die,
You father they recognize
Time. The bitter curse
Your deadly embrace
In their hearts the mournful spawn,
Is not circled
Flowers to your seven miserable...
When bloody lips,
Gnashing his sharp teeth,
To the grave with a howl you'll come
You will repel spirits of hell
His terrible stamp
Inevitable curse.

But I hate works that are pure fiction, even the most fantastic story needs to be factually justified, only a liar

Thousands of years is barely enough to create a state, one hour is quite, it vanished into dust.

Love grows Il wither. Only stagnation
Uncharacteristic of her. Il to ashes turn,
Il will be a guiding star,
Which eternal light, eternal as the world system.

As the sun set. Yellow moon
Ascended into heaven - the old witch;
She looks modest and cold,
But even the twenty-first of June
Three hours will do it
Such mischief in another full moon
What a day not to do:
She has this devilish zeal!

Animals and humans always
Friends will make trouble.