there is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
there is a rapture on the lonely shore.
there is a society where none intrudes,
by the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not the man less, but nature more,
from these our interviews, in which i steal,
from all i may be, or have been before,
to mingle with the universe, and feel,
what i can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.
-From Childe Harold
-Lord Byron
 If The Atlantic Were Honest About Its Bloggers… |  November 8th, 2005 | A Chronic Lack of Sleep | Stuck On The Beach |
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