George Gordon Noel Byron

I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth.

I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth.

Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear--
In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!
That weapon of her weakness she can read more

Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear--
In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!
That weapon of her weakness she can wield,
To save, subdue--at once her spear and shield.

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, read more

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.

I prefer the most unfair peace to the most righteous war.
[Lat., Iniquissimam pacem justissimo bello antefero.]

I prefer the most unfair peace to the most righteous war.
[Lat., Iniquissimam pacem justissimo bello antefero.]

'Tis solitude should teach us how to die;
It hath no flatterers; vanity can give
No hollow read more

'Tis solitude should teach us how to die;
It hath no flatterers; vanity can give
No hollow aid; alone--man with his God must strive.