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All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns.
Oscar Wilde
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Oscar Wilde
Age: 46 †
Born: 1854
Born: October 16
Died: 1900
Died: November 30
Author
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Opinion Journalist
Playwright
Poet
Prosaist
Short Story Writer
Writer
Dublin city
Oscar O'Flahertie Wills Wilde
Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde
Spring
Nest
Hold
Nests
Single
Hidden
Joy
Dawn
Herald
Feet
Red
Lark
May
Lows
Dawns
Many
Rose
Larks
Ground
Bud
More quotes by Oscar Wilde
Women represent the triumph of matter over mind, just as men represent the triumph of mind over morals.
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All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.
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What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.
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To believe is very dull. To doubt is intensely engrossing. To be on the alert is to live, to be lulled into security is to die.
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Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.
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If people are dishonest once, they will be dishonest a second time. And honest people should keep away from them. (Lady Chiltern)
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Sphinxes without secrets.
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The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her if she is pretty, and to someone else if she is plain.
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Really, if the lower orders don't set a good example, what on earth is the use of them?
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Scandal is gossip made tedious by morality.
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Art is rarely intelligible to the criminal classes.
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I could never quite accustom myself to absinthe, but it suits my style so well
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The birds did not understand a single word of what he was saying, but that made no matter, for they put their heads on one side, and looked wise, which is quite as good as understanding a thing, and very much easier.
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The gods bestowed on Max [Beerbohm] the gift of perpetual old age.
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Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses.
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No crime is vulgar, but all vulgarity is crime.
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No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.
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Like strange mechanical grotesques, Making fantastic arabesques, The shadows raced across the blind.
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A beggar hates his benefactor as much as he hates himself for begging.
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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.
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