Quotes from Oscar Wilde

To me, Beauty is the wonder of wonders...It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances

My existence is a scandal.

What is beautiful is a joy for all seasons and a possession for all eternity.

Sometimes we can spend years without living at all, and suddenly our whole life is concentrated in a single moment .

Do you really keep a diary? I'd give anything to look at it. May I? CECILY: Oh no. [Puts her hand over it.] You see, it is simply a very young girl's record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy.

For his mourners will be outcast men, And outcasts always mourn.

Nature is no great mother who has home us. She is our own creation. It is in our brain that she quickens to life. Things are because we see them, and what we see and how we see it depends on the arts that have influenced us. To look at a thing is very different from seeing a thing. One does not see anything until one sees its beauty.

Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art.

My good creature," cried the Rocket in a very haughty tone of voice, "I see that you belong to the lower orders.  A person of my position is never useful.  We have certain accomplishments, and that is more than sufficient.  I have no sympathy myself with industry of any kind, least of all with such industries as you seem to recommend.  Indeed, I have always been of opinion that hard work is simply the refuge of people who have nothing whatever to do.

Lord Henry had not come in yet. He was always late on principle, his principle being that punctuality is the thief of time.

really don't see anything romantic in proposing. It is very romantic to be in love. But there is nothing romantic about a definite proposal. Why, one may be accepted. One usually is, I believe. Then the excitement is all over. The very essence of romance is uncertainty. If ever I get married, I'll certainly try to forget the fact.

As it was, we always misunderstood ourselves, and rarely understood others.

There was blood on the painted feet, as though the thing had dripped--blood even on the hand that had not held the knife.

the remembrance even of joy having its bitterness, and the memories of pleasure their pain.

Palabras! ¡Simples palabras! ¡Qué terribles eran! ¡Cuán claras, vívidas y crueles! Parece que uno no puede escaparse de ellas. ¡Y, sin embargo, qué magia sutil contienen! Parecen conferir una forma plástica a las cosas informes y tienen una música propia, tan dulce como la del violín o la del laúd. ¡Simples palabras! ¿Hay algo más real que las palabras?

I have simply worshipped pianists - two at a time, sometimes, Harry tells me. I don't know what it is about them. Perhaps it is that they are foreigners. They all are, ain't they? Even those that are born in England become foreigners after a time, don't they? It is so clever of them, and such a compliment to art.

The joy of a caged bird was in her voice.

But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins.

As for being poisoned by a book, there is no such thing as that. Art has no influence upon action.

He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realize.

I remember having read somewhere, in some strange book, that when the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers.

You are unjust to women in England. And till you count what is a a shame in a woman to be an infamy in a man, you will always be unjust, and Right, that pillar of fire, and Wrong, that pillar of cloud, will be made dim to your eyes, or be not seen at all, or if seen, not regarded.

The evolution of man is slow. The injustice of men is great.

And yet it was not the mystery, but the comedy of suffering that struck him; its absolute uselessness, its grotesque want of meaning. How incoherent everything seemed! How lacking in all harmony! He was amazed at the discord between the shallow optimism of the day, and the real facts of existence. He was still very young.