Accursed be the city where the laws would stifle nature's!

The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.

The image of Eternity--the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

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

Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life?.

So bright the tear in Beauty's eye, Love half regrets to kiss it dry.

From the mingled strength of shade and light A new creation rises to my sight, Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow, So warm with light his blended colors glow. . . . . The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.