Lord Byron (January 22, 1788 - April 19, 1824)
Lord Byron in Wikipedia
If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.
On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined
The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
The dew of compassion is a tear.
Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.
Today we just took our lumps. We came across a good pitcher, and he pitched well and hit his spots.
We are all related because our DNA is the same with our very first mother (Eve).
Men in general are quick to believe that which they wish to be true.