But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.
Lord ByronRead
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
Interpretation
This quote reflects the inevitability of death and the finality it brings to life.
In this quote, Lord Byron personifies death as an angelic figure that spreads its wings and instills fear in those who are alive. It captures the chilling moment when death approaches, causing the living to confront their mortality, and highlights how the presence of death can suddenly still the hearts of the living, marking the end of life.
In practice
This quote could be used in a eulogy to emphasize the inevitability and seriousness of death.
But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.
It is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
Absence - that common cure of love.
Her great merit is finding out mine; there is nothing so amiable as discernment.
But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
Any car which holds together for a whole race is too heavy.
I am the descendant of slaves, of people that were born from a slave and a slave master.
But you answer, that the Constitution recognizes property in slaves. It would be sufficient, then, to reply, that this constitutional recognition must be void, because it is repugnant to the law of nature and of nations.
Every decision you make - every decision that you make every second - is not a decision about what to do, it is a decision about who you are. Every act is an act of self-definition.
You have no idea how much nastier I would be if I was not a Catholic. Without supernatural aid I would hardly be a human being.
If you don't know how to die, don't worry; Nature will tell you what to do on the spot, fully and adequately. She will do this job perfectly for you; don't bother your head about it.
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