Author of quotes: George Gordon Byron. Page 3

Would - be teacher wise.

Really hour, as we hear in the gardens
Drunken nightingales,
Really hour the lovers mouth
Burn in the fire of crazy words.
The soft noise of leaves, the splash of water
As if a shadow of those dreams..
Wines drunk from the dewy flowers,
And deeper far, and more stars
And the darker blue of the waves,
And melts the thick swarm of shadows
In the darkness, clear as crystal,
And gentle darkness, and the darkness clean.
What a beauty of twilight full
Not yet touched the night, the beam of the moon!.
It is the hour when from the boughs
The Nightingale's high note is heard.
It is the hour when lovers’ vows
Seem sweet in every whisper'd word.
And gentle winds and waters near
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met:
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the Heaven that clear obscure
So softly dark and darkly pure,
That follows the decline of day
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

In thee, I fondly hop'd to clasp
A friend, whom death alone could sever
But envy with malignant grasp,
Has torn thee from my breast for ever.
When I pressed you to his bosom,
Love and happiness full and reconciled with fate,
I thought only death will separate us from thee;
But here we separated people envy!

In the devil's quiver there is no better arrow for the heart than a soft voice.

No one openly dares to act;
We are our thoughts constrained run.
As all of them hypocrites
We accept fiction on faith.

She sighed, flushed, embarrassed,
Whispered: "No way!" and... agreed!

If I lost the world because of you, I would not lose you for the world.

Only freedom to live love.

To dry one tear is more valor, than to shed a sea of blood.

Impermanence I do not recognize,
Nasty, nasty, nasty me life,
Changing forever his essence,
As mercury from changes in temperature.

From the lion Saxon smarmy Jackal
To the Fox, the bear, the wolf ran away

Hope is the only blush that the existence of smears his face, the slightest touch of truth causes them to disappear, and we see then what the wench with sunken cheeks clutched in his arms.

But whatever be their destiny, and it's sad that whatever was in the future - their country must always remain one of the most interesting on the globe; and it is with their language, may only requires a larger study to obtain more attractiveness. If Scripture is properly interpreted, that Paradise was situated in Armenia, which also paid dearly as the descendants of Adam in General, for a fleeting participation of its soil in the bliss of one who was created from its dust; there began to diminish water after the flood and the dove flew. But almost with the disappearance of Paradise began and misery of the country, because even though she has long been a powerful Kingdom, it was rarely independent; the Persian satraps and the Turkish Pasha equally contributed to the ruin of that region where God created man in his image and likeness.

He who does not love his country, nothing love can't do.