Richard Lovelace was a Cavalier, who joined the Royalist forces in Oxford in 1645-6. It was he, who gave us the lines: "Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage." They gain credibility when one discovers they were written while in prison.

Technically, Christopher Wren was a fellow-commoner at Wadham - that is, a student of superior birth who paid extra for High Table privileges. He went on to be a Fellow of All Souls. He designed the Sheldonian Theatre in the 1660s, and the upper half of Tom Tower, Christ Church in 1681-2.

Beau Nash and Beau Brummel were Regency dandies.

In Samuel Johnson's time at Pembroke, sevants were sent regularly to knock on students' doors, to check that they were inside, working. If there was no answer, their absence was reported to the Master. This so infuriated Johnson that he refused to admit to his presence even when he was in, and he frequently got into trouble over this. He was not an assiduous student, and used to cross the road to Christ Church to borrow a friend's lecture notes. He had to discontinue this habit when his shoes became so worn that the Christ Church men laughed at him. Unable to afford to replace them, he nevertheless threw away in a fury a pair of new shoes left outside his door by an anonymous donor. Johnson left Oxford after about a year, but like many people who have not stayed long enough to obtain a degree, he took a great delight in the place in later life, and loved showing people around.

Sir Richard Burton (nothing to do with the actor) came up to Trinity College in 1840, but stayed only five terms, during which time he resisted all efforts to persuade him to trim his moustache. He "withdrew" from Oxford, and reported to his family that he had been awarded "an extra vacation for taking a double first with the highest honors". In truth he had been rusticated (sent down) for deliberately getting into trouble in order to avoid being made to enter the Church. Instead, he became an explorer, often travelling disguised as a native in order to live among the people. From India he went on to Africa, where he discovered Lake Tanganyika, and searched for the Upper Nile (where, we are told, his face was transfixed by a spear from cheek to cheek).

Oscar Wilde, who came up in 1874, having taken his first degree at Dublin, was a brilliant, if erratic student. He loved Oxford, and was disappointed not to be offered a Fellowship at Magdalen. One of his tributes to Oxford appears in Lady Bracknell's line in 'The Importance of Being Earnest': "Untruthful! My nephew Algernon? Impossible! He is an Oxonian."

Rumour has it that the Shelley Memorial was intended for his tomb, but the English Cemetery in Rome refused to accept it. Over the years the Memorial has been subjected to a number of indignities, including being painted orange, supplied with underpants, adorned with signposts, mummified in roller towels, surrounded by bottles with a notice reading 'The Morning After'; or flooded, with goldfish to add verisimilitude. These are but a few shining examples of the inventiveness of University men (and women), and while some of them may be apocryphal, it is tactful to give them credence when in the presence of a member of the college.