#george byron

[kaleb-is-definitely-sane]

"You're 17, what are you going to do with your life?" I'm gonna write poetry in my room, try to get published, kill myself with arsenic, and be worshipped like some kind of Romantic Messiah a hundred years later when a bunch of high and alcoholic teenagers start a cult around me.

[lunamarish]

Perché la spada consuma il fodero, / e l’anima il petto, / e il cuore deve prender fiato, / e l’amore anche ha bisogno di riposo.

George Gordon Byron

[letterboxd-loggd]

Gold Dust Gertie (1931) Lloyd Bacon

October 13th 2024

[si-monik-7]

Czym w końcu jest kłamstwo?

Prawdą w masce.

[canesenzafissadimora]

Tutte le tragedie finiscono con la morte, tutte le commedie con un matrimonio.

[sarnie-for-varney]

"You cannot resist hurting him."

...

"People like Polidori live for such treatment... and would die for want of it."

- Alice Krige (Mary Shelley) and Phillip Anglim (Lord Byron) in Haunted Summer (1988)

[ukdamo]

Farewell To Malta

George Byron

Adieu, ye joys of La Valette! Adieu, sirocco, sun, and sweat! Adieu, thou palace rarely enter’d! Adieu, ye mansions where I’ve ventured! Adieu, ye cursed streets of stairs! (How surely he who mounts you swears!) Adieu, ye merchants often failing! Adieu, thou mob for ever railing! Adieu, ye packets without letters! Adieu, ye fools who ape your betters! Adieu, thou damned’st quarantine, That gave me fever, and the spleen! Adieu, that stage which makes us yawn, Sirs, Adieu, his Excellency’s dancers! Adieu to Peter–whom no fault’s in, But could not teach a colonel waltzing; Adieu, ye females fraught with graces! Adieu, red coats, and redder faces! Adieu, the supercilious air Of all that strut ‘en militaire’! I go–but God knows when, or why, To smoky towns and cloudy sky, To things (the honest truth to say) As bad–but in a different way.

Farewell to these, but not adieu, Triumphant sons of truest blue! While either Adriatic shore, And fallen chiefs, and fleets no more, And nightly smiles, and daily dinners, Proclaim you war and woman’s winners. Pardon my Muse, who apt to prate is, And take my rhyme–because ’tis ‘gratis.’

And now I’ve got to Mrs. Fraser, Perhaps you think I mean to praise her­ And were I vain enough to think My praise was worth this drop of ink, A line–or two–were no hard matter, As here, indeed, I need not flatter: But she must be content to shine In better praises than in mine, With lively air, and open heart, And fashion’s ease, without its art; Her hours can gaily glide along, Nor ask the aid of idle song.

And now, O Malta! since thou’st got us, Thou little military hothouse! I’ll not offend with words uncivil, And wish thee rudely at the Devil, But only stare from out my casement, And ask, for what is such a place meant? Then, in my solitary nook, Return to scribbling, or a book, Or take my physic while I’m able (Two spoonfuls hourly by the label), Prefer my nightcap to my beaver, And bless the gods I’ve got a fever.

May 26, 1811.

[luminouslumity]

The Messy Life of Chaos Bisexual Lord Byron

Lord Byron has been dead for two hundred slutty, slutty years!

[atomic-chronoscaph]

The Road Warrior (1981)

[thebellekeys]

manwhore. bisexual. incest. eating disorder. poet. cheater. aristocrat. bipolar. celebrity. single dad of bastards. died in a war.

lord byron, you are my dream.

[vesseloftherevolution]

So, for George IV's coronation, it's a (hopefully) well known fact that he made everyone dress up in mock Tudor clothing, which is frankly hilarious due to how badly wrong they got it. And some of you may know that there's a glorious picture of the Duke of Wellington wearing said costume:

Poor Wellington... he looks so cross.

Now. I have been reading Fiona MacCarthy's biography of Byron, and it decided to punch me with an unexpected paragraph this evening:

We could have had LORD BYRON wandering around in Mock Tudor, which he'd love. And moreover, we could have had this as the one time Byron and Wellington met.

[thatsbelievable]

[humanoidhistory]

The War of the Worlds opened on this day in 1953.

[canesenzafissadimora]

Eppoi vi furon sospiri, tanto più profondi perché repressi, e occhiate furtive, tanto più dolci perché furate;e rossori cocenti, sebbene non vi fosse peccato!

[resqectable]

Friendship is love without his wings.

Lord George Gordon Byron

[perfectfeelings]

Friendship is love without his wings.

Lord George Gordon Byron