A furry bee came and buzzed round it for a moment. Then it began to scramble all over the fretted purple of the tiny blossoms. He watched it with that strange interest in trivial things that we try to develop when things of high import make us afraid, or when we are stirred by some new emotion, for which we cannot find expression
The bee might suggest/parallel how he was feeling at that particular instant
“How English you are, Basil! If one puts forward an idea to a real Englishman,—always a rash thing to do,—he never dreams of considering whether the idea is right or wrong. The only thing he considers of any importance is whether one believes it one’s self.
Why is this Englishlike? Why is putting forward an idea to an Englishman a rash thing to do?
You know we poor painters have to show ourselves in society from time to time, just to remind the public that we are not savages
I feel like the stereotype of poor, starving artists struggling to make ends meet was as evident then as it is now
Thu~ lldioq_h ft may he tempted to pmt a mmkler1bie mnoant of 1utooomy to the lilmHY dli9eoune thar we bow a Byron's poems. in faa his reladonships lVidi his readers. his publisher. and oth~d his fame--dl oontribuud to shaping lbo"1 hl1 tall ad hi1 idemky.
Byron's poetry changes over time because he, as a person, was changed by the fame and recognition he received from his earlier poems, and these experiences affected him enough to creep into his poetry. In a way, his readers have had as much of an effect on him as his poems have had on them, if not more, because without them, he'd never have written the poems he did.
latest and only opportunity of adorning my pages with a name, consecrated by unshaken public principle,
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with which I shall trespass on public patience
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it might be of some service to me, that the man who is alike the delight of his readers and his friends – the poet of all circles –and the idol of his own,
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