Man, being reasonable, must get drunk the best of life is but intoxication. – Lord Byron
This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all. – Lord Byron
All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin. – Lord Byron
This is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies, and for saving souls. All propagated with the best intentions. – Lord Byron
Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it. – Johann Wolfgang Goethe, Wilhelm Meister’s Travels, translated from German