No More Learning

SEBASTIAN MELMOTH

[OSCAR WILDE]







London
Arthur L. Humphreys
1911



(Miscellaneous aphorisms, followed by The Soul of Man. )



The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.

Women are made to be loved, not to be understood.

It is absurd to have a hard and fast rule about what one should read and
what one shouldn't. Moren than half of modern culture depends on what
one shouldn't read.

Women, as someone says, love with their ears, just as men love with
their eyes, if they ever love at all.

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be
good than to be ugly.

Nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion.

Misfortunes one can endure, they come from outside, they are accidents.
But to suffer for one's faults--ah! there is the sting of life.

Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Philosophies fall away
like sand, creeds follow one another, but what is beautiful is a joy for
all seasons, a possession for all eternity.

Questions are never indiscreet; answers sometimes are.
Humphreys
1911



(Miscellaneous aphorisms, followed by The Soul of Man. )



The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.

Women are made to be loved, not to be understood.

It is absurd to have a hard and fast rule about what one should read and
what one shouldn't. Moren than half of modern culture depends on what
one shouldn't read.

Women, as someone says, love with their ears, just as men love with
their eyes, if they ever love at all.

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be
good than to be ugly.

Nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion.

Misfortunes one can endure, they come from outside, they are accidents.
But to suffer for one's faults--ah! there is the sting of life.

Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Philosophies fall away
like sand, creeds follow one another, but what is beautiful is a joy for
all seasons, a possession for all eternity.

Questions are never indiscreet; answers sometimes are.

Twenty years of romance make a woman look like a ruin; but twenty years
of marriage make her something like a public building.

The only thing that one really knows about human nature is that it
changes.