Lord Byron Quotes

Steeds, steeds, what steeds! Has the whirlwind a home in your manes?

It is far better to live like a tiger for a day than to live like a jackal for a hundred years.

The sea does not like to be restrained.

Without doubt I praise the wild excellence.

When you are feeling too dull and too domesticated get on a horse, sit tall in the saddle, and for a moment live in a world that feels like risk and adventure.

Horses lend us the wings we lack.

Go strip off your clothes that are a nuisance in this mellow clime. Get in and wrestle with the sea; wing your heels with the skill and power that reside in you, hit the sea's breakers, master them, and ride upon their backs as a king should.

Four things greater than all things are Women and horses and power and War.

How the horse dominated the mind of the early races especially of the Mediterranean! You were a lord if you had a horse. Far back, far back in our dark soul the horse prances...The horse, the horse! The symbol of surging potency and power of movement, of action in man!

You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.

We need the tonic of wildness...At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.

Sometimes a wild horse needs to feel that his rider is just a little bit wilder.

Nothing is more stylish than power.

The most alive is the wildest.

The sea's only gifts are harsh blows and, occasionally, the chance to feel strong.

Only the strong can be free. And only the productive can be strong.

All power is the same. Magic. Physical strength. Economic strength. Political strength. It all serves a single purpose-it gives its possessor a broader spectrum of choices. It creates alternative courses of action.

What a creature he was! Never have I felt such a horse between my knees. His great haunches gathered under him with every stride, and he shot forward ever faster and faster, stretched like a greyhound, while the windbeat in my face and whistled past my ears.

Is he on his horse? O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!

Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.

A great people may be killed, but they cannot be intimidated.

And alone and without his nest shall the Eagle fly across the sun.

If freedom is short of weapons, we must compensate with willpower.

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle your horses, and call up your men; Come open the West Port, and let me gang free, And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!