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• And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 32...
• The sky is changed,--and such a change! O night And storm and darkness!
  ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman!...
• 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...
• Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been,-- A sound which makes us linge
  yet--farewell! -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 186...
• The cold, the changed, perchance the dead, anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost,--too many, yet how few!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 24...
• All tenantless, save to the crannying wind.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 47...
• Ungrateful Florence! Dante sleeps afar, Like Scipio, buried by the upbraiding shore.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 57...
• And what is writ is writ,-- Would it were worthier!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 185...
• Fills The air around with beauty.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 49...