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Lord Byron
Quote #108
Besides, they always smell of bread and butter.
More from Lord Byron
His heart was one of those which most enamour us, Wax to receive, and marble to retain: He was a lover of the good old school, Who still be…
I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, Wit…
Soprano, basso, even the contra-alto, Wished him five fathom under the Rialto.
Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.
For most men (till by losing rendered sager) Will back their own opinions by a wager.
O Mirth and Innocence! O milk and water! Ye happy mixtures of more happy days.
Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.
Which makes life itself a lie, Flattering dust with eternity.
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