Oscar Wilde Quotes
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Memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away.
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And it is only fair to state, with regard to modern journalists, that they always apologise to one in private for what they have written against one in public.
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As for borrowing Mr. Whistler's ideas about art, the only thoroughly original ideas I have heard him express have had reference to his own superiority as a painter over painters greater than himself.
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We are never more true to ourselves than when we are inconsistent.
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The intellect is not a serious thing, and never has been. It is an instrument on which one plays, that is all.
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In old days men had the rack. Now they have the press.
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A man who marries without knowing Bunbury has a very tedious time of it.
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To toil for a hard master is bitter, but to have no master to toil for is more bitter still.
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He must have a truly romantic nature, for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about.
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Now produce your explanation and pray make it improbable.
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I made your sorrow mine also, that you might have help in bearing it.
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Never met such a Gorgon . . . I don't really know what a Gorgon is like, but I am quite sure that Lady Bracknell is one. In any case, she is a monster, without being a myth, which is rather unfair.
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I didn't say I liked it Harry. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference.
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If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish how to listen, society here would be quite civilized.
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As I lounged in the Park, or strolled down Piccadilly, I used to look at everyone who passed me, and wonder, with mad curiosity, what sort of lives they led. some of them fascinated me. Others filled me with terror.
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This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last.
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Man is many things, but he is not rational.
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Like all people who try to exhaust a subject, he exhausted his listeners.
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The American father is never seen in London. He passes his life entirely in Wall Street and communicates with his family once a month by means of a telegram in cipher.
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Oh! I don't think I would like to catch a sensible man. I shouldn't know what to talk to him about.
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We always misunderstood ourselves, and rarely understood others.
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Romantic art deals with the exception and with the individual. Good people, belonging as they do to the normal, and so, commonplace type, are artistically uninteresting.
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Fruitcake is like semen, there's a lot of it about but no one wants to swallow it.
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The ability of the theist to misunderstand a thing is directly proportional to the obviousness of the thing.