Related:

• And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 32...
• In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 20...
• Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 1...
• My native land, good night!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 13...
• I see before me the gladiator lie.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 140...
• Might shake the saintship of an anchorite.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 11...
• Adieu! adieu! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 13...
• 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...
• War, war is still the cry,--"war even to the knife!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 86...