Quotes from Oscar Wilde

fantastic shadows of birds

Each narrow cell in which we dwell Is a foul and dark latrine, And the fetid breath of living Death Chokes up each grated screen, And all, but Lust, is turned to dust In Humanity's machine.

All good looks are a snare. They are a snare that every sensible man would like to be caught in.

For only blood can wipe out blood, And only tears can heal: And the crimson stain that was of Cain Became Christ's snow-white seal. VI.

It is only the sacred things that are worth touching.

The birds did not understand a single word of what he was saying, but that made no matter, for they put their heads on one side, and looked wise, which is quite as good as understanding a thing, and very much easier.

Why should there be one law for men, and another for women?

The only possible society is oneself. To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

But there are moments when one has to choose between living one's own life, fully, entirely, completely — or dragging out some false, shallow, degrading existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde THE PREFACE The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things. The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things

He is some brainless beautiful creature who should be always here in winter when we have no flowers to look at, and always here in summer when we want something to chill our intelligence.

We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to. Youth! Youth! There is absolutely nothing in the world but youth!

This portrait would be to him the most magical of mirrors. As it had revealed to him his own body, so it would reveal to him his own soul.

I have never searched for happiness. Who wants happiness? I have searched for pleasure.

The youth of the present day are quite monstrous. They have absolutely no respect for dyed hair.

And how delightful other people's emotions were!-much more delightful than their ideas, it seemed to him. One's own soul, and the passions of one's friends-those were the fascinating things in life.

the sin we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, and with joy.

Romantic art begins with its climax.

Poor Aubrey: I hope he will get all right. He brought a strangely new personality to English art, and was a master in his way of fantastic grace, and the charm of the unreal. His muse had moods of terrible laughter. Behind his grotesques there seemed to lurk some curious philosophy…

it was never to accept any theory or system that would involve the sacrifice of any mode of passionate experience. Its aim, indeed, was to be experience itself, and not the fruits of experience, sweet or bitter as they might be.

Marriage is a matter for common sense. But women who have common sense are so curiously plain, father, aren't they? Of course I only speak from heresay? No woman, plain or pretty, has any common sense at all, sir. Common sense is the privilege of our sex.

At the present moment I am eating muffins because I am unhappy. Besides, I am particularly fond of muffins.

His nature had developed like a flower, had borne blossoms of scarlet flame. Out of its secret hiding-place had crept his Soul, and Desire had come to meet it on the way.

I am covered with fine gold, said the Prince, you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor.