Цитаты из книги ドリアン・グレイの肖像

The lon- ger I live, Dorian, the more keenly I feel that whatever was good enough for our fathers is not good enough for us.

It was a tawdry affair, all Cupids and cornucopias, like a third-rate wedding-cake.

Faithlessness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the intellectual life,—simply a confession of failure.

people who only love once in their lives are really shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or the lack of imagination.

You will always be loved, and you will always be in love with love.

the search for beauty is the poisonous secret of life

I used to look at every one who passed me, and wonder with a mad curiosity what sort of lives they led. Some of them fascinated me. Others filled me with terror. There was an exquisite poison in the air. I had a passion for sensations.

I felt that this gray, monstrous London of ours, with its myriads of people, its splendid sinners, and its sordid sins, as you once said, must have something in store for me.

As for conversation, there are only five women in London worth talking to, and two of these can’t be admitted into decent society.

no woman is a genius: women are a decorative sex.

I don’t think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am too much in love.

You have never been to any of my parties, have you, Mr. Gray? You must come. I can’t afford orchids, but I spare no expense in foreigners.

She was a curious woman, whose dresses always looked as if they had been designed in a rage and put on in a tempest. She was always in love with somebody, and, as her passion was never returned, she had kept all her illusions. She tried to look picturesque, but only succeeded in being untidy.

He was always late on principle, his principle being that punctuality is the thief of time.

‘I trust you.’ — ‘I wish I could trust myself’

He won’t like you better for keeping your promises. He always breaks his own.

What a fuss people make about fidelity!

Sin is the only colorelement left in modern life.

Tea is the only simple pleasure left to us.

If it was I who were to be always young, and the picture that were to grow old!