Oscar Wilde Quotes
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But then one regrets the loss even of one's worst habits. Perhaps one regrets them the most. They are such an essential part of one's personality.
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No theory of life seemed to him to be of any importance compared with life itself.
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He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realize.
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Believe me, no civilized man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilized man ever knows what a pleasure is.
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I see the moon like a clipped piece of silver. Like gilded bees the stars cluster round her.
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Christ did not die to save people, but to teach people how to save each other. This is, I have no doubt, a grave heresy, but it is also a fact.
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Life! Life! Don't let us go to life for our fulfillment or our experience. It is a thing narrowed by circumstances, incoherent in its utterance, and without that fine correspondence of form and spirit which is the only thing that can satisfy the artistic.
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Life is too short to learn German.
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The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought and sold and bartered away.
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Young people, nowadays, imagine that money is everything, and when they grow older they know it.
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The great events of life often leave one unmoved; they pass out of consciousness, and, when thinks of them, become unreal. Even the scarlet flowers of passion seem to grow in the same meadow as the poppies of oblivion. We reject the burden of their memory, and have anodynes against them. But the little things, the things of no moment, remain with us. In some tiny ivory cell the brain stores the most delicate, and the most fleeting impressions.
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I don't like principles. I prefer prejudices.
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It is absurd to say that the age of miracles is past. It has not yet begun.
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It is love, and not German philosophy, that is the true explanation of the world, whatever may be the explanation of the next.
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And suddenly the moon withdraws her sickle from the lightening skies, and to her sombre cavern flies, wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
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There is nothing that art cannot express.
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What the hell is an oboe?
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I threw the pearl of my soul into a cup of wine. I went down the primrose path to the sound of flutes. I lived on honeycomb.
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When a man is old enough to do wrong he should be old enough to do right also.
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I am sorry my life is so marred and maimed by extravagance. But I cannot live otherwise. I, at any rate, pay the penalty of suffering.
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I hate vulgar realism in literature. The man who would call a spade a spade should be compelled to use one.
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I know. In fact, I am never wrong.
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The evolution of man is slow. The injustice of men is great.
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The proper aim is to try and reconstruct society on such a basis that poverty will be impossible.