Only the shallow know themselves.

Only the shallow know themselves. God knows; I won't be an Oxford don anyhow. I'll be a poet, a writer, a dramatist. Somehow or other I'll be famous, and if not famous, I'll be notorious. Or perhaps I'll lead the life of pleasure for a time and then—who knows?—rest and do nothing. What does Plato say is the highest end that man can attain here below? To sit down and contemplate the good. Perhaps that will be the end of me too.

A blog entirely dedicated to Oscar Wilde's genius.

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runecestershire:

mashedpotatoturtle:

enjolrastopheles:

greencarnations:

dannyrandy:

"twisting classical characters like dorian gray into a homosexual"
i’m frelling crying

TWISTING CLASSICAL CHARACTERS LIKE DORIAN GRAY INTO A HOMOSEXUAL

Son, you might want to be sitting down for this one.

Dorian Gray was so gay the book was literally used as evidence in the author’s trial for sodomy.

And it’s back. I don’t’ know whether to collapse with laughter or with horror. I think both will do.

Oh dear.

Reblogged from nancelot

runecestershire:

mashedpotatoturtle:

enjolrastopheles:

greencarnations:

dannyrandy:

"twisting classical characters like dorian gray into a homosexual"

i’m frelling crying

TWISTING CLASSICAL CHARACTERS LIKE DORIAN GRAY INTO A HOMOSEXUAL

Son, you might want to be sitting down for this one.

Dorian Gray was so gay the book was literally used as evidence in the author’s trial for sodomy.

And it’s back. I don’t’ know whether to collapse with laughter or with horror. I think both will do.

Oh dear.

"I don't think the Icarus quote belongs to Oscar. It's not in any of his poems..."

Asked by Anonymous

I know, right? I tried to find it but I didn’t have my Oscar books. I haven’t found it, so I think the safest answer here is to assume he didn’t write it. But you know what they say, England’s national sport is missatributing quotes to Oscar Wilde.

Reblogged from thosethingsprintedonpaper

"Why didn’t you go with her, you young fool? she’ll never love you unless you are always at her heels; women like to be bothered."

Reblogged from talesofpassingtime

Oscar Wilde, Vera (via talesofpassingtime)

"

I now see that sorrow, being the supreme emotion of which man is capable, is at once the type and test of all great art. What the artist is always looking for is the mode of existence in which soul and body are one and indivisible: in which the outward is expressive of the inward: in which form reveals. Of such modes of existence there are not a few: youth and the arts preoccupied with youth may serve as a model for us at one moment: at another we may like to think that, in its subtlety and sensitiveness of impression, its suggestion of a spirit dwelling in external things and making its raiment of earth and air, of mist and city alike, and in its morbid sympathy of its moods, and tones, and colours, modern landscape art is realising for us pictorially what was realised in such plastic perfection by the Greeks. Music, in which all subject is absorbed in expression and cannot be separated from it, is a complex example, and a flower or a child a simple example, of what I mean; but sorrow is the ultimate type both in life and art.

Behind joy and laughter there may be a temperament, coarse, hard and callous. But behind sorrow there is always sorrow. Pain, unlike pleasure, wears no mask. Truth in art is not any correspondence between the essential idea and the accidental existence; it is not the resemblance of shape to shadow, or of the form mirrored in the crystal to the form itself; it is no echo coming from a hollow hill, any more than it is a silver well of water in the valley that shows the moon to the moon and Narcissus to Narcissus. Truth in art is the unity of a thing with itself: the outward rendered expressive of the inward: the soul made incarnate: the body instinct with spirit. For this reason there is no truth comparable to sorrow. There are times when sorrow seems to me to be the only truth. Other things may be illusions of the eye or the appetite, made to blind the one and cloy the other, but out of sorrow have the worlds been built, and at the birth of a child or a star there is pain.

More than this, there is about sorrow an intense, an extraordinary reality. I have said of myself that I was one who stood in symbolic relations to the art and culture of my age. There is not a single wretched man in this wretched place along with me who does not stand in symbolic relation to the very secret of life. For the secret of life is suffering. It is what is hidden behind everything. When we begin to live, what is sweet is so sweet to us, and what is bitter so bitter, that we inevitably direct all our desires towards pleasures, and seek not merely for a ‘month or twain to feed on honeycomb,’ but for all our years to taste no other food, ignorant all the while that we may really be starving the soul.

"

Reblogged from slothnorentropy

From Oscar Wilde’s essay De Profundis

Pain wears no mask (Oscar Wilde)

Reblogged from mygreatadventurehasbegun

mygreatadventurehasbegun:

This might be one of the greatest things I’ve ever discovered.

Now that Santino Fontana is more famous (or at least his voice is), I think it’s time to bring this back.

"The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame."

Reblogged from writingquotes

Oscar Wilde (via writingquotes)

"Never regret thy fall,
O Icarus of the fearless flight
For the greatest tragedy of them all
Is never to feel the burning light."

Reblogged from deaformosus

Oscar Wilde (via deaformosus)

Reblogged from alcools

"The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, but he could not understand what the Nightingale was saying to him, for he only knew the things that are written down in books."

Reblogged from happinessisasolid

The Nightingale and the Rose,
Oscar Wilde (via happinessisasolid)

"Art is the most intense mode of individualism that the world has known."

Reblogged from gryphon-n-equylybryum

Oscar Wilde (via gryphon-n-equylybryum)

Reblogged from life7imitates7art

"Indifference is the revenge the world takes on mediocrities."

Reblogged from talesofpassingtime

Oscar Wilde, Vera (via talesofpassingtime)

"To influence a person is to give him one’s own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else’s music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him.
The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for."

Reblogged from londonforoneyear

Lord Henry Wotton (Oscar Wilde, “The Picture of Dorian Gray”)