Dorian Gray Quotes
Quotes tagged as "dorian-gray"
Showing 1-30 of 56
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because they are tired, women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“The ugly and stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They live as we all should live-- undisturbed, indifferent, and without disquiet. They never bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it from alien hands. Your rank and wealth, Henry; my brains, such as they are-- my art, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray's good looks-- we shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“It was not intended as a compliment. It was a confession. Now that I have made it, something seems to have gone out of me. Perhaps one should never put one's worship into words.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Cassandra Clare](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1689347318i/150038._UX200_CR0,33,200,200_.jpg)
“You look ill,” Matthew observed. “Is it my dancing? Is it me personally?”
“Perhaps I’m nervous,” she said. “Lucie did say you didn’t like many people.”
Matthew gave a sharp, startled laugh, before schooling his face back into a look of lazy amusement. “Did she? Lucie’s a chatterbox.”
“But not a liar,” she said.
“Well, fear not. I do not dislike you. I hardly know you,” said Matthew. “I do know your brother. He made my life miserable at school, and Christopher’s, and James’s.”
“Alastair and I are very different,” Cordelia said. She didn’t want to say more than that. It felt disloyal to Alastair. “I like Oscar Wilde, for instance, and he does not.”
The corner of Matthew’s mouth curled up. “I see you go directly for the soft underbelly, Cordelia Carstairs. Have you really read Oscar’s work?”
“Just Dorian Gray,” Cordelia confessed. “It gave me nightmares.”
“I should like to have a portrait in the attic,” Matthew mused, “that would show all my sins, while I stayed young and beautiful. And not only for sinning purposes—imagine being able to try out new fashions on it. I could paint the portrait’s hair blue and see how it looks.”
“You don’t need a portrait. You are young and beautiful,” Cordelia pointed out.
“Men are not beautiful. Men are handsome,” objected Matthew.
“Thomas is handsome. You are beautiful,” said Cordelia, feeling the imp of the perverse stealing over her. Matthew was looking stubborn. “James is beautiful too,” she added.
“He was a very unprepossessing child,” said Matthew. “Scowly, and he hadn’t grown into his nose.”
“He’s grown into everything now,” Cordelia said.
Matthew laughed, again as if he was surprised to be doing it. “That was a very shocking observation, Cordelia Carstairs. I am shocked.”
― Chain of Gold
“Perhaps I’m nervous,” she said. “Lucie did say you didn’t like many people.”
Matthew gave a sharp, startled laugh, before schooling his face back into a look of lazy amusement. “Did she? Lucie’s a chatterbox.”
“But not a liar,” she said.
“Well, fear not. I do not dislike you. I hardly know you,” said Matthew. “I do know your brother. He made my life miserable at school, and Christopher’s, and James’s.”
“Alastair and I are very different,” Cordelia said. She didn’t want to say more than that. It felt disloyal to Alastair. “I like Oscar Wilde, for instance, and he does not.”
The corner of Matthew’s mouth curled up. “I see you go directly for the soft underbelly, Cordelia Carstairs. Have you really read Oscar’s work?”
“Just Dorian Gray,” Cordelia confessed. “It gave me nightmares.”
“I should like to have a portrait in the attic,” Matthew mused, “that would show all my sins, while I stayed young and beautiful. And not only for sinning purposes—imagine being able to try out new fashions on it. I could paint the portrait’s hair blue and see how it looks.”
“You don’t need a portrait. You are young and beautiful,” Cordelia pointed out.
“Men are not beautiful. Men are handsome,” objected Matthew.
“Thomas is handsome. You are beautiful,” said Cordelia, feeling the imp of the perverse stealing over her. Matthew was looking stubborn. “James is beautiful too,” she added.
“He was a very unprepossessing child,” said Matthew. “Scowly, and he hadn’t grown into his nose.”
“He’s grown into everything now,” Cordelia said.
Matthew laughed, again as if he was surprised to be doing it. “That was a very shocking observation, Cordelia Carstairs. I am shocked.”
― Chain of Gold
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“You know we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time, just to remind the public that we are not savages.”
―
―
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“I have been right, Basil, haven’t I, to take my love out of poetry, and to find my wife in Shakespeare’s plays? Lips that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered their secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me, and kissed Juliet on the mouth.”
―
―
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Come, I tell you. You have chattered enough about corruption. Now you shall look on it face to face!”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Why didn't you tell me that the only thing worth loving is an actress?”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Our weakest motives were those of whose nature we were conscious. It often happened that when we thought we were experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![H.G. Parry](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1558877137i/18633573._UX200_CR0,43,200,200_.jpg)
“It scares the living daylights out of everybody. Present company excepted, I’m sure.” “I don’t really do living or daylight,” Dorian said. “I’m a Gothic masterpiece.”
― The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep
― The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“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 are corrupt without being charming.
This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings
in beautiful things are the cultivated.
For these there is hope.
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.
Books are well written, or badly written.
That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of
Realism is the rage of Caliban
seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of
Romanticism is the rage of Caliban
not seeing his own face in a glass.
The moral life of man forms part of the
subject-matter of the artist, but the morality
of art consists in the perfect use of an im-
perfect medium.
No artist desires to prove anything. Even
things that are true can be proved.
No artist has ethical sympathies. An
ethical sympathy in an artist is an un-
pardonable mannerism of style.
No artist is ever morbid. The artist
can express everything.
Thought and language are to the artist
instruments of an art.
Vice and virtue are to the artist materials
for an art.
From the point of view of form, the type of all
the arts is the art of the musician. From the
point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the
Type.
All art is at once surface and symbol.
Those who go beneath the surface do so at
their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at
their peril.
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really
Mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art
shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.
When critics disagree, the artist is in accord
with himself.
We can forgive a man for making a useful
thing as long as he does not admire it. The
only excuse for making a useless thing is that
one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
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 are corrupt without being charming.
This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings
in beautiful things are the cultivated.
For these there is hope.
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.
Books are well written, or badly written.
That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of
Realism is the rage of Caliban
seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of
Romanticism is the rage of Caliban
not seeing his own face in a glass.
The moral life of man forms part of the
subject-matter of the artist, but the morality
of art consists in the perfect use of an im-
perfect medium.
No artist desires to prove anything. Even
things that are true can be proved.
No artist has ethical sympathies. An
ethical sympathy in an artist is an un-
pardonable mannerism of style.
No artist is ever morbid. The artist
can express everything.
Thought and language are to the artist
instruments of an art.
Vice and virtue are to the artist materials
for an art.
From the point of view of form, the type of all
the arts is the art of the musician. From the
point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the
Type.
All art is at once surface and symbol.
Those who go beneath the surface do so at
their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at
their peril.
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really
Mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art
shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.
When critics disagree, the artist is in accord
with himself.
We can forgive a man for making a useful
thing as long as he does not admire it. The
only excuse for making a useless thing is that
one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Le donne ci ispirano il desiderio di far dei capolavori e ci impediscono sempre di eseguirli”
― Il ritratto di Dorian Gray
― Il ritratto di Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“For God's sake don't talk to me,' cried Dorian, stamping his foot on the ground. 'What do you want? Money. Here it is. Don't ever talk to me again,”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Ruhun acısını ancak duyular alır, nasıl ki duyuların acısını alabilecek tek şey de ruhtur.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“The world has cried out against us both, but it has always worshipped you. It will always worship you. You are the type of what the age is searching for, and what it is afraid it has found. I am so glad that you have never done anything, never carved a statue, or painted a picture, or produced anything outside of yourself! Life has been your art. You have set yourself to music. Your days are your sonnets.”
―
―
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost enamored of death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality, this art being, one might fancy, especially the art of those who minds have been troubled with the malady of reverie. Gradually white fingers creep through the curtains, and they appear to tremble. In black, fantastic shapes, dumb shadows crawl into the corners of the room, and crouch there. Outside, there is the stirring of the birds among the leaves, or the sound of men going forth to their work, or the sigh and sob of the wind coming down from the hills and wandering round the silent house, as though it feared to wake the sleeper, and yet must needs call forth Sleep from her purple cave. Veil after veil of thin, dusky gauze is lifted, and by degrees the forms and colors of things are restored to them, and we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern. The wan mirrors get back their mimic life. The flameless tapers stand where we had left them, and beside them lies the half-cut book that we had been studying, or the wired flower that we had worn at the ball, or the letter we had been afraid to read, or that we had read too often. Nothing seems to us changed. Out of the unreal shadows of the night comes back the real life that we had known. We have to resume it where we had left off, and there steals over us a terrible sense of the necessity for the continuance of energy in the same wearisome round of stereotyped habits, or a wild longing, it may be, that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned anew in the darkness for our pleasure, a world in which things would have fresh shapes and colors, and be changed, or have other secrets, a world in which the past would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, in no conscious form of obligation or regret, the remembrance even of joy having its bitterness, and the memories of pleasure their pain.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Of course I could never let you know anything about this. It would have been impossible. You would not have understood it. I hardly understood it myself. I only knew that I had seen perfection face to face, and that the world had become wonderful to my eyes— too wonderful, perhaps, for in such mad worships there is peril, the peril of losing them, no less than the peril of keeping them.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Il passato non ha che un unico fascino: quello di essere passato.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Allorché venne in contatto colla vita la distrusse e questa distrusse lei; e così è scomparsa”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Women went about with oranges and ginger-beer, and there was a terrible consumption of nuts going on.”
―
―
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“There was a silence. The evening darkened in the room. Noiselessly, and with silver feet, the shadows crept in from the garden. The colours faded wearily out of things.”
―
―
![Oscar Wilde](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/authors/1673611182i/3565._UX200_CR0,15,200,200_.jpg)
“Because you have now the most marvellous youth, and youth is the one thing worth having.”
― The Picture of Dorain Gray
― The Picture of Dorain Gray
“You would not have understood it. I hardly understood it myself. I only knew that I had seen perfection face to face, and that the world had become wonderful to my eyes— too wonderful, perhaps, for in such mad worships there is peril, the peril of losing them, no less than the peril of keeping them.”
―
―
“Of course I could never let you know anything about this. It would have been impossible. You would not have understood it. I hardly understood it myself. I only knew that I had seen perfection face to face, and that the world had become wonderful to my eyes— too wonderful, perhaps, for in such mad worships there is peril, the peril of losing them, no less than the peril of keeping them.”
―
―
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