Lord Byron Quotes about Hate

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Hatred is the madness of the heart.

Lord Byron

Hate, Heart, Hatred

One hates an author that's all author.

Lord Byron

Hate, Writing

Lord Byron (2013). “Byron: Selected Poetry and Prose”, p.98, Routledge

Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me, not I them.

Lord Byron

Hate, Misanthrope, Call Me

Lord Byron (2013). “Don Juan”, p.238, Simon and Schuster

He who surpasses or subdues mankind, must look down on the hate of those below.

Lord Byron

Jealousy, Hate, Ambition

Lord Byron (2015). “Childe Harold's Pilgrimage”, p.65, Sheba Blake Publishing

Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.

Lord Byron

Love, Hate, Men

'Don Juan' (1819-24) canto 13, st. 4.

But I hate things all fiction... there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric - and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.

Lord Byron

Liars, Hate, Writing

Letter to John Murray from Venice, April 2 1817, in L. A. Marchand (ed.) 'Byron's Letters and Journals' vol. 5 (1976)

Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.

Lord Byron

Hate, Twilight, Water

George Gordon Byron, “Don Juan: Canto The Second”

Here's a sigh to those who love me,And a smile to those who hate;And, whatever sky's above me,Here's a heart for every fate.

Lord Byron

Hate, Heart, Fate

Lord Byron (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Lord Byron (Illustrated)”, p.536, Delphi Classics

I hate all pain, Given or received; we have enough within us The meanest vassal as the loftiest monarch, Not to add to each other's natural burden Of mortal misery.

Lord Byron

Pain, Hate, Add

There is no passion, more spectral or fantastical than hate, not even its opposite, love, so peoples air, with phantoms, as this madness of the heart.

Lord Byron

Hate, Passion, Heart

Lord Byron (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Lord Byron (Illustrated)”, p.1469, Delphi Classics

Above or Love, Hope, Hate or Fear, It lives all passionless and pure: An age shall fleet like earthly year; Its years in moments shall endure. Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die.

Lord Byron

Hate, Years, Wings

George Gordon Byron, “When Coldness Wraps This Suffering Clay”