We of the craft (poets) are all crazy. - Lord Byron

There' s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away,
When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay.

Que vergonha! Não quero ir para o Inferno! (I'm very sorry, very much ashmed,)
Juro regenerar-me antes do inverno. (And mean next winter to be quite reclaimed)

What are the hopes of man? Old Egypt's King
Cheops erected the first pyramid
And largest, thinking it was just the thing
To keep his memory whole, and mummy hid;
But somebody or other rummaging,
Burglariously broke his coffin's lid:
Let not a monument give you or me hopes,
Since not a pinch of dust remains of Cheops.