He
is the very basis of civilised society.
is the very basis of civilised society.
Oscar Wilde - Poetry
It is
fortunate for us, however, that nature is so imperfect, as otherwise we
should have had no art at all. Art is our spirited protest, our gallant
attempt to teach Nature her proper place. As for the infinite variety of
nature, that is a pure myth. It is not to be found in Nature herself. It
resides in the imagination or fancy or cultivated blindness of the man
who looks at her.
Facts are not merely finding a footing-place in history but they are
usurping the domain of fancy and have invaded the kingdom of romance.
Their chilling touch is over everything. They are vulgarising mankind.
Ordinary people wait till life discloses to them its secrets, but to the
few, to the elect, the mysteries of life are revealed before the veil is
drawn away. Sometimes this is the effect of art, and chiefly of the art
of literature which deals immediately with the passions and the
intellect. But now and then a complex personality takes the place and
assumes the office of art, is, indeed, in its way a real work of art,
Life having its elaborate masterpieces just as poetry has, or sculpture,
or painting.
Thinking is the most unhealthy thing in the world, and people die of it
just as they die of any other disease.
A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite
and it leaves one unsatisfied.
The aim of the liar is simply to charm, to delight, to give pleasure.
He
is the very basis of civilised society.
It is quite a mistake to believe, as many people do, that the mind shows
itself in the face. Vice may sometimes write itself in lines and changes
of contour, but that is all. Our faces are really masks given to us to
conceal our minds with.
What on earth should we men do going about with purity and innocence? A
carefully thought-out buttonhole is much more effective.
The only difference between a caprice and a lifelong passion is that the
caprice lasts a little longer.
People say sometimes that beauty is only superficial. That may be so,
but at least it is not so superficial as thought is.
It is the spectator and not life that art really mirrors.
Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Conscience and cowardice are really the same things. Conscience is the
trade name of the firm--that is all.
In every sphere of life form is the beginning of things. The rhythmic,
harmonious gestures of dancing convey, Plato tells us, both rhythm and
harmony into the mind. Forms are the food of faith, cried Newman, in one
of those great moments of sincerity that make us admire and know the
man.
fortunate for us, however, that nature is so imperfect, as otherwise we
should have had no art at all. Art is our spirited protest, our gallant
attempt to teach Nature her proper place. As for the infinite variety of
nature, that is a pure myth. It is not to be found in Nature herself. It
resides in the imagination or fancy or cultivated blindness of the man
who looks at her.
Facts are not merely finding a footing-place in history but they are
usurping the domain of fancy and have invaded the kingdom of romance.
Their chilling touch is over everything. They are vulgarising mankind.
Ordinary people wait till life discloses to them its secrets, but to the
few, to the elect, the mysteries of life are revealed before the veil is
drawn away. Sometimes this is the effect of art, and chiefly of the art
of literature which deals immediately with the passions and the
intellect. But now and then a complex personality takes the place and
assumes the office of art, is, indeed, in its way a real work of art,
Life having its elaborate masterpieces just as poetry has, or sculpture,
or painting.
Thinking is the most unhealthy thing in the world, and people die of it
just as they die of any other disease.
A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite
and it leaves one unsatisfied.
The aim of the liar is simply to charm, to delight, to give pleasure.
He
is the very basis of civilised society.
It is quite a mistake to believe, as many people do, that the mind shows
itself in the face. Vice may sometimes write itself in lines and changes
of contour, but that is all. Our faces are really masks given to us to
conceal our minds with.
What on earth should we men do going about with purity and innocence? A
carefully thought-out buttonhole is much more effective.
The only difference between a caprice and a lifelong passion is that the
caprice lasts a little longer.
People say sometimes that beauty is only superficial. That may be so,
but at least it is not so superficial as thought is.
It is the spectator and not life that art really mirrors.
Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Conscience and cowardice are really the same things. Conscience is the
trade name of the firm--that is all.
In every sphere of life form is the beginning of things. The rhythmic,
harmonious gestures of dancing convey, Plato tells us, both rhythm and
harmony into the mind. Forms are the food of faith, cried Newman, in one
of those great moments of sincerity that make us admire and know the
man.
