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No Words Suffice The Secret Soul To Show, For Truth Denies All Eloquence To Woe.
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No words suffice the secret soul to show,
For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
-- The Corsair, Canto iii, Stanza 22
Related:
He left a corsair's name to other times, Link'd with one virtue and a thousand crimes.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto iii, Stanza 24...
Hope withering fled, and Mercy sighed farewell!
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 9...
The many still must labour for the one.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 8...
The power of thought,--the magic of the mind!
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 8...
There was a laughing devil in his sneer.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 9...
All tenantless, save to the crannying wind.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 47...
And after all, what is a lie? 'T is but The truth in masquerade.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Don Juan, Canto xi, Stanza 37...
Lord of himself,--that heritage of woe! -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Lara, Canto i, Stanza 2
He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 5...