Related:

• Oh, Amos Cottle! Phoebus! what a name!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, Line 399...
• Perverts the Prophets and purloins the Psalms.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, Line 326...
• I'll publish right or wrong. Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, Line 6...
• T is pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; A book 's a book, although there 's nothing in 't.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, Line 51...
• As soon Seek roses in December, ice in June; Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff
  Believe a woman or an epitaph, Or any other thing that 's false, before You trust in critics....
• So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, View'd his own feather on the fatal dart, And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, Line 826...
• Yet truth will sometimes lend her noblest fires, And decorate the verse herself inspire
  This fact, in virtue's name, let Crabbe attest,-- Though Nature's sternest painter, yet the best....
• Goodnight -- Lord Byro
• Who track the steps of glory to the grave.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Monody on the Death of Sheridan, Line 74...