As the lovely and talented Keira pointed out yesterday, it was Byron’s birthday on Tuesday. (I always remember Byron’s birthday because it’s my father’s birthday too–he just turned 97! Younger than Byron, but not by much.)
So happy birthday, Byron, the ultimate bad boy– mad bad and dangerous to know as the equally mad bad and dangerous Lady Caroline Lamb, defined him. But heck, the man was HAWWWT.
I blogged a little while ago about this excellent book by Jude Morgan about Byron, Shelley, et al, and I urge you to read it–it’s fabulous. (And I’ve just read Symphony by Jude Morgan, about Berlioz and Harriet Smithson, an amazing book. But I’m saving that for another time .) So I thought we’d celebrate Byron’s birthday with some of his quotations–many of which I found at this excellent site, not that there’s a shortage of sites about Byron. And throw in a few more pics of him.
I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.
Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.
What men call gallantry, and gods adultery,
Is much more common where the climate’s sultry.
The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine & becoming viands.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause for breath,
And love itself have rest.
So share your favorite Byron quote, poem, or anecdote. Or tell us how long it would have taken you to enter into a scandalous and public liaison with him (me: ten minutes).
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