But 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.
Lord ByronRead
It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. A year impairs, a luster obliterates. There is little distinct left without an effort of memory, then indeed the lights are rekindled for a moment - but who can be sure that the Imagination is not the torch-bearer?
More from Lord Byron
All quotes βIt is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
Lord ByronRead
For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
Lord ByronRead
Absence - that common cure of love.
Lord ByronRead
Her great merit is finding out mine; there is nothing so amiable as discernment.
Lord ByronRead
But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
Lord ByronRead