Absurdity
My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then. (Remark to the poet Thomas Moore. Quoted in: Doris Langley Moore, The Late Lord Byron, ch. 8 (1961; rev. ed., 1976))

Acting
I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting. (8 May [?] 1814, to Thomas Moore)

Adolescence
So much alarmed that she is quite alarming,
All Giggle, Blush, half Pertness, and half Pout.
(Beppo, stanza 39).

Adultery
What men call gallantry, and gods adultery,
Is much more common where the climate's sultry.
(Don Juan, canto 1, stanza 63.)

Adventure
And yet a little tumult, now and then, is an agreeable quickener of sensation; such as a revolution, a battle, or an adventure of any lively description. (Journal entry for 22 Nov. 1813).

Adversity
It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time. (8 March 1816, to Thomas Moore)

Aesthetics
'Tis the perception of the beautiful,
A fine extension of the faculties,
Platonic, universal, wonderful,
Drawn from the stars, and filtered through the skies,
Without which life would be extremely dull.
(Don Juan, canto, stanza 212).

Age
It was one of the deadliest and heaviest feelings of my life to feel that I was no longer a boy. From that moment I began to grow old in my own esteem?and in my esteem age is not estimable.
("Detached Thoughts," no. 72)

I shall soon be six-and-twenty. Is there anything in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five? (Journal entry for 1 Dec. 1813).

My time has been passed viciously and agreeably; at thirty-one so few years months days hours or minutes remain that "Carpe Diem" is not enough. I have been obliged to crop even the seconds--for who can trust to tomorrow? ( 20 Aug. 1819).

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast.
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
("So We'll Go No More A-Roving").

Anarchy
There is, in fact, no law or government at all [in Italy]; and it is wonderful how well things go on without them.  (Jan., 1821, to Moore)

Angels
The Angels were all singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon
Or curb a runaway young star or two.
( The Vision of Judgment, stanza 2).

Aristocrats
For what were all these country patriots born?
To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
(The Age of Bronze, stanza 14).

Aristocratic Education
He learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery,
And how to scale a fortress--or a nunnery.
(Don Juan, canto 1, stanza 38).

Avarice
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice,
I think I must take up with avarice.
(Don Juan, canto 1, stanza 216).

Bargaining
A bargain is in its very essence a hostile transaction . . . do not all men try to abate the price of all they buy? I contend that a bargain even between brethren is a declaration of war. (14 July 1821).

Bills
Dreading that climax of all human ills
The inflammation of his weekly bills.
(Don Juan, canto 3, stanza 35).

Books
'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print;
A book's a book, although there's nothing in't.
(English Bards and Scotch Reviewers) .

Burns, Robert
What an antithetical mind!--tenderness, roughness--delicacy, coarseness--sentiment, sensuality--soaring and grovelling, dirt and deity--all mixed up in that one compound of inspired clay! (Journal entry for 13 Dec. 1813)

Byron on Byron
I have not loved the world, nor the world me;
I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd
To its idolatries a patient knee.
(Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, canto 3, stanza 113).

I stood among them, but not of them; in a shroud
Of thoughts which were not their thoughts.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, canto 3, stanza 113).

I really am the meekest and mildest of men since Moses (though the public and mine "excellent wife" cannot find it out). (8 March 1822)

Change
The lapse of ages changes all things--time--language--the earth--the bounds of the sea--the stars of the sky, and every thing "about, around, and underneath" man, except man himself, who has always been, and always will be, an unlucky rascal. The infinite variety of lives conduct but to death, and the infinity of wishes lead but to disappointment. All the discoveries which have yet been made have multiplied little but existence.  (Jan. 9, 1821, Journal)

Chaos
Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people. (Ravenna journal, 5 Jan. 1821).

Cultural Comparisons
I see not much difference between ourselves & the Turks, save that we have foreskins and they none, that they have long dresses and we short, and that we talk much and they little. In England the vices in fashion are whoring & drinking, in Turkey, sodomy and smoking. (3 May 1810)

The French courage proceeds from vanity--the German from phlegm--the Turkish from fanaticism & opium--the Spanish from pride--the English from coolness--the Dutch from obstinacy--the Russian from insensibility--but the Italian from anger. (31 Aug. 1820, to John Murray).

Criticism and the Arts
Reviews and magazines are at best ephemeral & superficial reading. Who thinks of the grand article of last year in any given review? (24 Sept. 1821, to John Murray).

Critics
A man must serve his time to every trade
Save censure--critics all are ready made.
(English Bards and Scotch Reviewers).

Crying
Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear--
In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!
(The Corsair, canto 2, stanza 15).

The Dead
I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who had died with them. Is not this odd? They go the very first things in youth & yet last the longest in the dust. (18 Nov. 1820, to John Murray).

Debt
It is very iniquitous to make me pay my debts--you have no idea of the pain it gives one. (26 Oct. 1819).

Diaries
This journal is a relief. When I am tired . . . out comes this, and down goes every thing. But I can't read it over--and God knows what contradictions it may contain. If I am sincere with myself (but I fear one lies more to one's self than to any one else) every page should confute, refute, and utterly abjure its predecessor. (Journal entry for 6 Dec. 1813).

Discernment
Her great merit is finding out mine--there is nothing so amiable as discernment. (25 Nov. 1816, to John Murray).

Drunkenness
I would to heaven that I were so much clay,
As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling--
Because at least the past were passed away--
And for the future--(but I write this reeling,
Having got drunk exceedingly today,
So that I seem to stand upon the ceiling)
I say--the future is a serious matter--
And so--for God's sake--hock and soda-water!
(Fragment on the back of the Poet's MS. of Don Juan, Canto 1)

Embarrassment
He scratched his ear, the infallible resource
To which embarrassed people have recourse.
(Don Juan, canto 6, stanza 100).

England and the English
I am sure my bones would not rest in an English grave, or my clay mix with the earth of that country. I believe the thought would drive me mad on my death-bed could I suppose that any of my friends would be base enough to convey my carcass back to her soil. I would not even feed her worms if I could help it. (7 June 1819, to John Murray).

Epitaphs
Some of the epitaphs at Ferrara pleased me more than the more splendid monuments of Bologna--for instance
    "Martini Luigi Implora pace."
    "Lucrezia Picini Implora eterna quiete."
Can any thing be more full of pathos! those few words say all that can be said or sought--the dead had had enough of life--all they wanted was rest--and this they "implore." There is all the helplessness--and humble hope and deathlike prayer that can arise from the Grave--"implore pace." I hope, whoever may survive me and shall see me put in the foreigners' burying-ground at the Lido--within the fortress by the Adriatic--will see those two words and no more put over me. I trust they won't think of "pickling and bringing me home to Clod or Blunderbuss Hall." I am sure my Bones would not rest in an English grave--or my Clay mix with the earth of that Country. (June 7, 1819, to Murray)

[His own epitaph] Here lies interred in the eternity of the past, from whence there is no resurrection for the days--whatever there may be for the dust--the thirty-third year of an ill-spent life, which, after a lingering disease of many months sank into a lethargy, and expired, January 22d, 1821, A.D. leaving a successor inconsolable for the very loss which occasioned its existence. (Ravenna Journal, entry for 22 Jan. 1822).

[Epitaph for Lord Castlereagh]
Posterity will ne'er survey
A nobler grave than this:
Here lie the bones of Castlereagh:
Stop, traveller, and piss.

[On Sheridan]
Sighing that Nature formed but one such man,
And broke the die.

Europe
There is no freedom in Europe--that's certain--it is besides a worn out portion of the globe.
(3 Oct. 1819).

Excuses
Your letter of excuses has arrived. I receive the letter but do not admit the excuses except in courtesy, as when a man treads on your toes and begs your pardon--the pardon is granted, but the joint aches, especially if there is a corn upon it. (2 Feb. 1821, to John Murray).

Exile
An exile, saddest of all prisoners,
Who has the whole world for a dungeon strong,
Seas, mountains, and the horizon's verge for bars.
("The Prophecy of Dante", canto 4).

Fact and Fiction
But I hate things all fiction . . . there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric--and pure invention is but the talent of a liar. (2 April 1817, to John Murray)

Fame
My great comfort is, that the temporary celebrity I have wrung from the world has been in the very teeth of all opinions and prejudices. I have flattered no ruling powers; I have never concealed a single thought that tempted me. (9 April 1814, to Thomas Moore).

What is the end of fame? 'Tis but to fill
A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some liken it to climbing up a hill,
Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapor;
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill,
And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper,"
To have, when the original is dust,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.
(from Don Juan, Canto 1, stanza 217)

The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
(Don Juan, canto 8, stanza 3).

Farewells
All farewells should be sudden, when forever.
(Sardanapalus, act 5, scene 1).

Fidelity
Constancy . . . that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such conterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal. (17 Nov. 1816, to Thomas Moore).

Flattery
The reason that adulation is not displeasing is that, though untrue, it shows one to be of consequence enough, in one way or other, to induce people to lie. (Journal entry for 28 Nov. 1813).

Flirting
We have progressively improved into a less spiritual species of tenderness--but the seal is not yet fixed though the wax is preparing for the impression. (14 Oct. 1813)

Food and Eating
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine & becoming viands. (25 Sept. 1812)

Freedom
Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying,
Streams like the thunderstorm against the wind.
(Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, canto 4, stanza 98).

Friends
I have had, and may have still, a thousand friends, as they are called, in life, who are like one's partners in the waltz of this world--not much remembered when the ball is over. (16 Nov. 1822, to Mary Shelley).

Friendship
A mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree, you are lovers; and when it is over, anything but friends. (Journal entry for 24 Nov. 1813).

I have always laid it down as a maxim--and found it justified by experience--that a man and a woman make far better friendships than can exist between two of the same sex--but then with the condition that they never have made or are to make love to each other. (1 Dec. 1822)

No friend like to a woman Earth discovers,
So that you have not been nor will be lovers.
(Don Juan, canto 14, stanza 93).

Gambling
I have a notion that gamblers are as happy as most people, being always excited; women, wine, fame, the table, even ambition, sate now & then, but every turn of the card & cast of the dice keeps the gambler alive--besides one can game ten times longer than one can do any thing else.
("Detached Thoughts," no. 33).

Genius
I really cannot know whether I am or am not the Genius you are pleased to call me, but I am very willing to put up with the mistake, if it be one. It is a title dearly enough bought by most men, to render it endurable, even when not quite clearly made out, which it never can be till the Posterity, whose decisions are merely dreams to ourselves, has sanctioned or denied it, while it can touch us no further. (10 June 1822, to  Isaac D'Israeli).

Give and Take
I do detest everything which is not perfectly mutual. (21 Oct. 1813)

Gold
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper,
Which makes bank credit like a bark of vapour.
(Don Juan, canto 12, stanza 4).

Greece and the Greeks
Ancient of days! august Athena! where,
Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul?
Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were.
(Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, canto 2, stanza 2).

The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung.
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.
(Don Juan, canto 3, stanza 86).

Hate
Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure;
Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
(Don Juan, canto13, stanza 6).

But hatred is a much more delightful passion & never cloys; it will make us all happy for the rest of our lives. (19 April 1813)

Hope
... 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. (Oct. 18, 1815, to Moore)

Imagination
The mind can make
Substance, and people planets of its own
With beings brighter than have been, and give
A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
("The Dream")

Immortality
My restlessness tells me I have something within that "passeth show." It is for Him, who made it, to prolong that spark of celestial fire which illumines, yet burns, this frail tenement; but I see no such horror in a "dreamless sleep", and I have no conception of any existence which duration would not render tiresome. (Journal, Nov. 27, 1813)

Is there any thing beyond?--who knows? He that can't tell. Who tells that there is? He who don't know. And when shall he know? perhaps, when he don't expect it, and, generally when he don't wish it. In this last respect, however, all are not alike; it depends a good deal upon education,--something upon nerves and habits--but most upon digestion. (Journal, Feb. l8, 1813)

It has been said that the immortality of the soul is a "grand peut-etre"--but still it is a grand one. Everybody clings to it--the stupidest, and dullest, and wickedest of human bipeds is still persuaded that he is immortal. (Ravenna Journal, Jan. 25, 1821)

A material resurrection seems strange and even absurd except for purposes of punishment--and all punishment which is to revenge rather than correct--must be  morally wrong--and when the World is at an end--what moral or warning purpose can eternal tortures answer? ("Detached Thoughts")

Intoxication
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk
The hopes of all men, and of every nation;
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk
Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion:
But to return--Get very drunk: and when
You wake with headache, you shall see what then.
(Don Juan, canto 2, stanza 179).

Italian Ruins
Thy decay
Is still impregnate with divinity.
(Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, canto 4, stanza 55).

Liberty
The king-times are fast finishing. There will be blood shed like water, and tears like mist; but the peoples will conquer in the end. I shall not live to see it, but I foresee it. (Ravenna Journal, Jan. 18, 1821)

It is no great matter, supposing that Italy could be liberated, who or what is sacrificed. It is a grand object--the very poetry of politics. Only think! a free Italy!!! (Ravenna Journal, Feb. 18, 1821)

Life
When one subtracts from life infancy (which is vegetation),--sleep,eating, and swilling--buttoning and unbuttoning--how much remains of downright existence? The summer of a dormouse. (Journal, Dec. 7, 1813)

Love and Marriage
'Tis melancholy, and a fearful sign
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
That love and marriage rarely can combine,
Although they both are born in the same clime;
Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine--
A sad, sour, sober beverage---by time
Is sharpened from its high celestial flavor
Down to a very homely household savor.

There's something of antipathy, as 'twere,
Between their present and their future state;
A kind of flattery that's hardly fair
Is used until the truth arrives too late!
Yet what can people do, except despair?
The same things change their names at such a rate;
For instance passion in a lover's glorious,
But in a husband is pronounced uxorious.

Men grow ashamed of being so very fond;
They sometimes also get a little tired
(But that, of course, is rare), and then despond:
The same things cannot always be admired,
Yet 'tis "so nominated in the bond,"
That both are tied till one shall have expired.
Sad thought! to lose the spouse that was adorning
Our days, and put one's servants into mourning.

There's doubtless something in domestic doings
Which forms, in fact, true 1ove's antithesis;
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages;
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss:
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life?

All tragedies are finished by a death,
All comedies are ended by a marriage;
The future states of both are left to faith,
For authors fear description might disparage
The worlds to come of both, or fall beneath,
And then both worlds would punish their miscarriage;
So leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready,
They say no more of Death or of the Lady.
(Don Juan, canto 3, stanzas 5-9)

Marriage
I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.
(15 Oct. 1814)

Memory
It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us; a year impairs; a lustre obliterates. There is little distinct left without an effort of memory. Then, indeed, the lights are rekindled for a moment. . . . Let any man try at the end of ten years to bring before him the features, or the mind, or the sayings, or the habits, of his best friend. (Ravenna Journal, 1821-22).

Military Display
What makes a regiment of soldiers a more noble object of view than the same mass of mob? Their arms, their dresses, their banners, and the art and artificial symmetry of their position and movements. (7 Feb. 1821, to John Murray).

Mountains
I live not in myself, but I become
Portion of that around me; and to me
High mountains are a feeling, but the hum
Of human cities torture.
(Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, canto 3, stanza 72).

Paradise
... the Padre Pasquale Aucher... assured me "that the terrestrial Paradise had been certainly in Armenia"-- I went seeking it -- God knows where --did I find it? -- Umph! -- Now & then -- for a minute or two. ("Detached Thoughts", No. 55)

Philosophy
When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter"
And proved it--'twas no matter what he said:
They say his system 'tis in vain to batter,
Too subtle for the airiest human head;
And yet who can believe it? I would shatter
Gladly all matters down to stone or lead,
Or adamant, to find the world a spirit,
And wear my head, denying that I wear it.

If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
Perhaps mankind might find the path they miss--
But then 'twould spoil much good philosophy.
One system eats another up, and this
Much as old Saturn ate his progeny;
For when his pious consort gave him stones
In lieu of sons, of these he made no bones.

But System doth reverse the Titan's breakfast,
And eats her parents, albeit the digestion
Is difficult: Pray tell me, can you make fast,
After due search, your faith to any question?
Look back o'er ages, ere unto the stake fast
You bind yourself, and call some mode the best one.
Nothing more true than not to trust your senses;
And yet what are your other evidences?

For me, I know nought; nothing I deny,
Admit, reject, contemn; and what know you
Except perhaps that you were born to die?
And both may after all turn out untrue.
An age may come, Font of Eternity,
When nothing shall be either old or new.
Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep,
And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.

A sleep without dreams, after a rough day
Of toil, is what we covet most; and yet
How clay shrinks back from more quiescent clay!
The very Suicide that pays his debt
At once without instalments (an old way
Of paying debts, which creditors regret)
Lets out impatiently his rushing breath,
Less from disgust of life than dread of death.
(Don Juan, canto 11, stanzas 1-4)

Pleasant events
... whenever I meet with anything agreeable in this world it surprizes me so ... much (when my passions are not interested in one way or the other) that I go on wondering for a week to come. (June 6, 1819, to Hoppner)

Poetry
I can never get people to understand that poetry is the expression of excited passion, and that there is no such thing as a life of passion anymore than a continuous earthquake, or an eternal fever. Besides, who would ever shave themselves in such a state? (July 5, 1821, to Moore)

Politics
God will not be always a Tory .... (Feb. 2, 1821, to Murray)

... after all it is better playing at Nations than gaming at Almacks or Newmarket or in piecing or dinnering .... (Dec. 28, 1818, to Kinnard)

... [M]y parliamentary schemes are not much to my taste--I spoke twice last Session--& was told it was well enough--but I hate the thing altogether--& have no intention to "strut another hour" on that stage. (Mar., 1818, to Augusta Leigh)

But Men never advance beyond a certain point;--and here we are, retrograding to the dull, stupid old system,--balance of Europe-- poising straws upon kings' noses instead of wringing them off! Give me a republic, or a despotism of one, rather than the mixed government of one, two, three. A Republic!--look in the history of the Earth .... To be the first man--not the Dictator--not the Sylla, but the Washington or the Aristides--the leader in talent and truth--is next to the Divinity! (Journal, Nov. 28, 1818)

... I have simplified my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments; and, as it is the shortest and most agreeable and summary feeling imaginable, the first moment of an universal republic would convert me into an advocate for single and uncontradicted despotism. The fact is, riches are power, and poverty is slavery all over the earth, and one sort of establishment is no better, nor worse, for a people than another. (Journal, Jan. 16, 1815)

Weather cold--carriage open, and inhabitants somewhat savage-- rather treacherous and highly inflamed by politics. Fine fellows, though,--good materials for a nation. Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people. (Ravenna Journal, Jan. 5, 1821)

Rapture
An infant when it gazes on a light,
A child the moment when it drains the breast,
A devotee when soars the Host in sight,
An Arab with a stranger for a guest,
A sailor when the prize has struck in fight,
A miser filling his most hoarded chest,
Feel rapture; but not such true joy are reaping
As they who watch o'er what they love while sleeping.

For there it lies so tranquil, so beloved,
All that it hath of life with us is living;
So gentle, stirless, helpless, and unmoved,
And all unconscious of the joy 'tis giving;
All it hath felt, inflicted, passed, and proved,
Hushed into depths beyond the watcher's diving;
There lies the thing we love with all its errors
And all its charms, like death without its terrors.
(Don Juan, canto 2, stanza 179-80)

Reason
It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe--you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep. ("Detached Thoughts", no. 96).

Religion
There's nought, no doubt, so much the spirit calms
As rum and true religion.
(Don Juan), canto 2, stanza 34.

There is something Pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything. (4 Dec. 1811).

All are inclined to believe what they covet, from a lottery-ticket up to a passport to Paradise,--in which, from description, I see nothing very tempting. (Journal, Nov. 17, 1813)

. .. I am really a great admirer of tangible religion; and am breeding one of my daughters a Catholic, that she may have her hands full. It is by far the most elegant worship, hardly excepting the Greek mythology. What with incense, pictures, statues, altars, shrines, relics, and the real presence, confession, absolution,--there is something to grasp at. Besides, it leaves no possibility of doubt; for those who swallow their Deity, really and truly, in transubstantiation, can hardly find any thing else otherwise than easy of digestion. (Mar. 8, 1822, to Moore)

I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.
(published in Correspondence and Table-Talk, vol. 2, ed. by Frederic Wordsworth Haydon, 1876).

As to miracles, I agree with Hume that it is more probable men should lie or be deceived, than that things out of the course of nature should so happen. (Sept. 18, 1811, to Hodgson)

And our carcases, which are to rise again, are they worth raising? I hope, if mine is, that I shall have a better pair of legs than I have moved on these two-and-twenty years, or I shall be sadly behind in the squeeze into Paradise. (Sept. 18, 1811, to Hodgson)

... there is something Pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything. (Dec., 1811, to Hodgson)

I am no Bigot to Infidelity--& did not expect that because I doubted the immortality of Man, I should be charged with denying ye existence of a God.--It was the comparative insignificance of ourselves & our world when placed in competition with the mighty whole of which it is an atom that first led me to imagine that our pretensions to eternity might be overrated. (June 18, 1818, to William Gifford)

. . . if ever I feel what is called devout--it is when I have met with some good of which I did not conceive myself deserving--and then I am apt to thank anything but mankind... why I came here-- I know not -- where I shall go it is useless to enquire -- in the midst of myriads of the living & the dead worlds -- stars -- systems --infinity -- why should I be anxious about an atom? (Mar. 8, 1815, to Annabella Milbanke)

... when I turn thirty--I will turn devout--I feel a great vocation that way in Catholic Churches--& when I hear the Organ. (April 1817, to Murray)

... I do not know what to believe--which is the devil--to have no religion at all--all sense & senses are against it--but all belief & much evidence is for it--it is walking in the dark over a rabbit warren--or a garden with steel traps and spring guns.--for my part I have such a detestation of some of the articles of faith--that I would not subscribe to them--if I were as sure as St. Peter after the Cock crew. (April 1817, to Hobhouse)

I cannot help thinking that the menace of Hell makes as many devils as the severe penal codes of inhuman humanity make villains. Man is born passionate of body--but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his Main-spring of Mind.---- But God help us all--It is at present a sad jar of atoms. ("Detached Thoughts")

I am always most religious upon a sunshiny day .... ("Detached Thoughts")

Reproduction
What a strange thing is the propagation of life!--A bubble of Seed which may be spilt in a whore's lap--or in the Orgasm of a voluptuous dream--might (for aught we know) have formed a Caesar or a Buonaparte--there is nothing remarkable recorded of their Sires--that I know of-- ("Detached Thoughts, " No. 102)

Selfishness
... we are all selfish & I no more trust myself than others with a good motive .... (Sept. 28, 1818, to Lady Melbourne)

Sentimentality
I hate sentiment--& in consequence my epistolary levity--makes you believe me as hollow & heartless as my letters are light--Indeed it is not so. (0ct. 25, 1818? to Lady Melbourne)

Sharing
All who joy would win
Must share it,--Happiness was born a twin.
(Don Juan, canto 2, stanza 172).

Society
Society is now one polished horde,
Formed of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bored.
(Don Juan, canto 13, stanza 95).

Women
Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler,
And daughters sometimes run off with the butler.
(Don Juan, canto 3, stanza 22).

Writing
But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think;
'Tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses
Instead of speech, may form a lasting link
Of ages; to what straits old Time reduces
Frail man, when paper even a rag like this,
Survives himself, his tomb, and all that's his.
(Don Juan, Canto 3, stanza 88)