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Of course you know — Byron was such a crack shot, he could hit a rose at 25 paces. Pushkin, at least during the years [1824-6] when he lived here, in the country, was decidedly obsessed with Byron; he studied him most diligently and even tried to adopt many of Byron’s habits. Pushkin, for instance, would say he awfully lamented not being gifted with the physical strength to pull off such feats as the English poet, who had, as is well-known, swum the Hellespont… And to match the precision of Byron’s aim, Pushkin joined me in planting bullets in a marker.      Incidentally, it also bears mentioning that Pushkin was at that time preparing to duel the infamous so-called Tolstoy the American… Somewhere in Moscow, Pushkin had met Tolstoy at a card table. They played. Tolstoy surreptitiously swapped a card. Pushkin pointed that out to him. “Yes, I know,” Tolstoy replied, “but I’d rather not have that pointed out.” Consequently, Pushkin was determined to face Tolstoy in a duel, and so, in preparation for that duel, he joined me in target practice.

—A. N. Wulf, “Stories about Pushkin, recorded by M. I. Semevsky” [1866] [my translation]

***

Lord Byron is an admirable horseman, combining grace with the security of his seat. He prides himself much on this exercise. He conducted us for some miles till we came to a farm-house, where he practises pistol-firing every evening. This is his favourite amusement, and may indeed be called almost a pursuit. He always has pistols in his holster, and eight or ten pair by the first makers in London carried by his courier. We had each twelve rounds of ammunition, and in a diameter of four inches he put eleven out of twelve shots. I observed his hand shook exceedingly. He said that when he first began at Manton’s he was the worst shot in the world, and Manton was perhaps the best. The subject turned upon duelling, and he contended for its necessity, and quoted some strong arguments in favour of it.      “I have been concerned,” said he, “in many duels as second, but only in two as principal; one was with Hobhouse before I became intimate with him. The best marksmen at a target are not the surest in the field. […] Shelley is a much better shot than I am, but he is thinking of metaphysics rather than of firing.”

—Thomas Medwin, “Journal of the conversations of Lord Byron: Noted during a residence with His Lordship at Pisa, in the years 1821 and 1822” [1824]

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From Shakespeare's comedy of Twelfth Night, illustrated by William Heath Robinson, 1908.

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i keep wondering if i should watch "wicked" but i actually don't have to because i already saw that time kristin chenoweth's life was changed onstage by the voice teacher she pulled out of the audience to sing "for good" in 2013

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damn i wish u guys could read this fic i haven't written and this fic i haven't finished writing and this fic i'm putting off outlining and this fic i outlined but haven't started and this fic i'll never write and this other fic i haven't written and this fic that exists only in vague impressions in my head that fall apart every time i try to commit them to the page and th

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how do you do, fellow Creatives™

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I Don't Know How Many Souls I Have

by Fernando Pessoa tr. Richard Zenith

I don’t know how many souls I have. I’ve changed at every moment. I always feel like a stranger. I’ve never seen or found myself. From being so much, I have only soul. A man who has soul has no calm. A man who sees is just what he sees. A man who feels is not who he is.

Attentive to what I am and see, I become them and stop being I. Each of my dreams and each desire Belongs to whoever had it, not me. I am my own landscape, I watch myself journey -- Various, mobile, and alone. Here where I am I can’t feel myself.

That’s why I read, as a stranger, My being as if it were pages. Not knowing what will come And forgetting what has passed, I note in the margin of my reading What I thought I felt. Rereading, I wonder: “Was that me?” God knows, because he wrote it.

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Days Since Having a Dream About One of My Fandoms: 0

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Powderham Castle, Kenton, Exeter, Devon, United Kingdom,

Photograph by Will Pryce

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Anti-Stratfordian who thinks Shakespeare did write his plays but he was from somewhere else

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the human mind is prone to catastrophizing when left unoccupied. And that’s why it’s important to always have a little Blorbo to rotate in your head. It acts as a protective charm of sorts to redirect your imagination away from harmful spirals

thoughts without Blorbo: oh my god I was so cringe in seventh grade why did I do that

thoughts with Blorbo: I haven’t considered the interactions with bleebus; I must rectify this immediately

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ASOIAF according to Korean translation; Bran II

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You said we should take it really slow…

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human/vampire enemies to lovers but they’re not completely in trust yet so each gentle touch & fang graze while exploring each others bodies has the potential to be the mortal’s demise but the vampire is also wary because the human came back from olive garden & there’s garlic there

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Oh, I'm so glad you looked into this, even though you ran into a roadblock. (Oxford why must you let me down?) Augusta Leigh by Bakewell and Bakewell also concludes that there was an affair and quotes the "I can find no woman so handsome as you" line, but they don't go into much detail. I was actually thinking of picking up Fall of the House of Byron in hopes it would provide more concrete evidence.

The sheer dramatic irony of Frances and Jack having an incestuous affair that prefigures Augusta and George Byron's affair while Jack's daughter was married to Frances's son... It's incredible.

Doing history research is so frustrating. I went on a whole side quest about Lord Byron's father, Jack Byron, likely having an affair with his sister Francis Leigh. I found some snippets of their letters that were so juicy.... but the full letters are in the Oxford library, and unless you are a student, they don't make scans :)) (If any of you go to Oxford and want to help a girl out, I would immensely appreciate).

So I'll never know the full content of the letters. But here's the little that Emily Brand quotes in her book The Fall of the House of Byron: Scandal and Seduction in Georgian England:

"my Dear Fanny you are the only person I sincerely love"

"do not make yourself too handsome, as I am too mad already that you are my sister"

"I declare I can find no Woman so handsome as you, I have tried several, but when I do any thing extraordinary, I always think of you."

Some may have noticed that Francis' married name is "Leigh", just like Augusta's. Well, that's because Augusta (who was Jack's daughter) married her cousin George Leigh, Francis' son. It was while married to George Leigh that Augusta would start an affair with her half-brother, George Byron a.k.a. Lord Byron.

If Francis and Jack really did have an affair, there's a non-zero chance that George Leigh was in actuality Jack's son. That would mean that there's a non-zero chance that Augusta was married to her half-brother and then cheated on him with their other half-brother. (This theory has no backing, but it kinda makes sense, specially considering that Charles Leigh, George's father, immensely objected to his son's marriage to Augusta. Maybe because he suspected that George was Jack's bastard?)

P.S. Jack Byron is actually named John Byron, but is often called Jack to distinguish him from his father, who was also John Byron

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What can I say, the game is good

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Me: Wait, how do you not know the lesbian incest classic "Goblin Market"??

My gf: Uh, why would I?