Thursday 23rd: Two weeks married. Still faintly dizzy if I make any sudden movement. Had to have helping hand to walk first few steps in any direction. Very disappointed in myself, but periodically, no doubt, will fall into the trap.
Friday 24th: Made superb love to E in the afternoon. Gets better all the time, if that’s possible. Thought about death too much.
Monday 27th: Drank a lot. Don’t remember anything, if at all.
Tuesday 28th: Drank some more.
Wednesday 29th: Ditto. Must stop!
The Richard Burton Diaries
“So My Lumps,
You’re off, by God! I can barely believe it since I am so unaccustomed to anybody leaving me. But reflectively I wonder why nobody did so before.
All I care about - honest to God - is that you are happy and I don’t much care who you’ll find happiness with. I mean as long as he’s a friendly bloke and treats you nice and kind.
If he doesn’t, I’ll come at him with a hammer and clinker. God’s eye may be on the sparrow, but my eye will always be on you. Never forget your strange virtues.
Never forget that underneath that veneer of raucous language is a remarkable and puritanical LADY.
I am a smashing bore and why you’ve stuck by me so long is an indication of your loyalty. I shall miss you with passion and wild regret. You know, of course, my angelic one, that everything I (we) have is yours, so you should be fairly comfortable.
Don’t, however, let your next inamorata use it, otherwise I might become a trifle testy. And if he takes my former wife and turns her into stress and strife, I’ll smash him bash him, laugh or crash him, slash him, trash him etc.
Christ, I am possessed by language. Mostly bad. (Sloshed, d’yer think?) So now, have a good time. You may rest assured that I will not have affairs with any other female. Anybody after you is going to be disinteresting.
I shall gloom a lot and stare morosely into unimaginable distances and act a bit - probably on the stage - to keep me in booze and butter, but chiefly and above all I shall write. Not about you, I hasten to add. I’ll leave it to you to announce the parting of the ways while I shall never say or write one word except this valedictory note to you.
Try and look after yourself. Much love. Don’t forget that you are probably the greatest actress in the world, you are the best there can be. I wish I could borrow a minute portion of your passion and commitment, but there you are - cold is cold as ice is ice”
- Richard Burton to Elizabeth Taylor
In 1978 (2 years after their 2nd and final divorce) Elizabeth Taylor stayed in the Beverly Hills Hotel during her Return Engagement TV play, and she discovered 100 rare roses - the color of her violet eyes - had been delivered. “They’re from Richard!” Elizabeth gushed as she opened the card. And not wanting to look ungrateful, Liz called her ex long distance to thank him.
Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton in a deleted scene from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, 1966.
From the book: Furious Love. Elizabeth Taylor. Richard Burton.
A woman of elaborate words. Such intimate feelings said. But the book is so juicy, I can’t stop raving about it.
They totally just had sex
This is probably an appropriate caption to just about every picture of these two.
I might run from her for a thousand years and she is still my baby child. Our love is so furious that we burn each other out.
Richard is a very sexy man. He’s got that sort of jungle essence that one can sense. It’s not the way he combs his hair, not the things he wears; he doesn’t think about having muscles. It’s what he says and thinks.
Endless love, that’s as real as it gets right there
I’d like to be alone with Elizabeth for about two hundred years but can’t even get two days.
— Richard Burton