Related:

• The many still must labour for the one.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 8...
• 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...
• Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 1...
• Hope withering fled, and Mercy sighed farewell!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 9...
• There was a laughing devil in his sneer.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 9...
• The power of thought,--the magic of the mind!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 8...
• Farewell! For in that word, that fatal word,--howe'er We promise, hope, believe,--there breathes despair.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 15...
• She walks the waters like a thing of life, And seems to dare the elements to strife.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto i, Stanza 3...
• The fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse. -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Preface