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• Then farewell Horace, whom I hated so,-- Not for thy faults, but mine.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 77...
• I only know we loved in vain; I only feel--farewell!
  farewell! -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Farewell! if ever fondest Praye...
• Had sigh'd to many, though he loved but one.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, stanza 5...
• I have not loved the world, nor the world me.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 113...
• I loathe that low vice curiosity. -- Lord Byro
• In my hot youth, when George the Third was king.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Don Juan, Canto i, Stanza 212...
• My native land, good night!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 13...
• I hated Rush Limbaugh -- until I got my lobotomy.
• And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward
  from a boy. I wantoned with thy breakers, . ....