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
Here lies interred in the eternity of the past, from whence there is no resurrection for the days - whatever there may be for the dust - the thirty-third year of an ill-spent life, which, after a lingering disease of many months sank into a lethargy, and expired, January 22d, 1821, A.D. leaving a successor inconsolable for the very loss which occasioned its existence.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the regrets of a life poorly lived and the inevitability of mortality.
In this poignant reflection, Lord Byron contemplates the end of his life, emphasizing the weight of regret and the finality of death. It captures the essence of a life filled with unfulfilled potential, as well as the sorrow of those left behind, signifying that while life may come to an end, the memories and impacts endure, creating a deep sense of loss and reflection on the choices made.
In practice
During a memorial service, one might quote Byron to express the feelings of loss and reflection on the deceased's life.
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.
I won't talk about what it was like in prison, except to say I'm glad I'm out and that I plan never to go back and to pay my taxes every day.
Hope may be the thing that pulls you forward, may be the thing that keeps you going, but that it's dangerous, that it's painful and risky, that it's making a dare in the world and when has the world ever let us win a dare?
There is just one life for each of us: our own.
Cherish each hour of this day for it can NEVER return.
Actresses can get outrageously precious about the way they look. That's not what life's about. If you starve yourself to the point where your brain cells shrivel, you will never do good work. And if you're overly conscious of your arms flapping in the wind, how can you look the other actor in the eye to respond to them?
Life is easy, life is delightful. It's only hard on your illusions, your ambitions, your greed, your cravings.
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