For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause for breath,
And love itself have rest.
Quote by Lord Byron
More Quotes By Lord Byron
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Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure; Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
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All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin.
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Society is now one polished horde, --- Formed of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bored.
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I'll publish right or wrong. Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.