No Ear Can Hear Nor Tongue Tell The Tortures Of The Inward Hell! -- Lord Byro

Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 1...
On the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 86...
Put your hard drive to your ear. Can you hear the C: ?
But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 42...
In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 20...
Goodnight -- Lord Byro
But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto ii, Stanza 26...
If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 7...
I have not loved the world, nor the world me.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 113...