I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.
Time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn, some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.
Think not I am what I appear.
All human history attests That happiness for man, - the hungry sinner! - Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner. ~Lord Byron, Don Juan, Canto XIII, stanza 99