Quotes About Quote

As for a spoiled life, no life is spoiled but one whose growth is arrested. If you want to mar a nature, you have merely to reform it.

It is simply expression, as Henry says, that gives reality to things.

That's an awful thing,a womans memory

To tell people what to read is, as a rule, either useless or harmful; for the appreciation of literature is a question of temperament not of teaching; to Parnassus there is no primer and nothing that one can learn is ever worth learning.

memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away

The only horrible thing in the world is ennui, Dorian. That is the one sin for which there is no forgiveness.

Love is a more wonderful thing than art.' 'They are both simply forms of imitation,' remarked Lord Henry.

He atones for being occasionally somewhat overdressed by being always absolutely over-educated. He is a very modern type.

strength of women comes from the fact that psychology cannot explain us.  Men can be analysed, women . . . merely adored.

Poets are not so scrupulous as you are. They know how useful passion is for publication. Nowadays a broken heart will run to many editions.

Rugged and straightforward as he was, there was something in his nature that was purely feminine in its tenderness

I am not going to Egypt,' said the bird. 'I am going to the House of Death.' He kissed the prince and fell down dead at his feet.

Lady Bracknell, I hate to seem inquisitive, but would you kindly inform me who I am?

Ah! That must be Aunt Augusta. Only relatives, or creditors, ever ring in that Wagnerian manner.

Pleasure is the only thing worth having a theory about

They are more cunning than practical. When they make up their ledger, they balance stupidity by wealth, and vice by hypocrisy.

That awful thing, a woman's memory!

In matters of great importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing.

What on earth you are serious about I haven't got the remotest idea.  About everything, I should fancy.  You have such an absolutely trivial nature.

She is at rest. Peace, peace, she cannot hear, Lyre or sonnet, All my life's buried here, Heap earth upon it.

Colonel. Can she read and write?   Peter. Ay, that she can, sir. Colonel. Then she is a dangerous woman.

Do you smoke? Jack.  Well, yes, I must admit I smoke. Lady Bracknell.  I am glad to hear it.  A man should always have an occupation of some kind.  There are far too many idle men in London as it is. 

Why should he watch the hideous corruption of his soul?

She has the fascinating tyranny of youth, and the astonishing courage of innocence.