Work is the curse of the drinking classes.

Oscar Wilde

Oscar Wilde

Profession: Dramatist
Nationality: Irish


Work is the curse of the drinking classes. Oscar Wilde

Some suggestions for you :

Can be read without any trouble and was probably written without any trouble.

And each man kills the thing he loves.

She laughed again. Her teeth showed like white seeds in a scarlet fruit.

Dear little Swallow, said the Prince, you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery.

I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever.

It was his beauty that had ruined him, his beauty and the youth that he had prayed for. But for those two things, his life might have been free from stain. His beauty had been to him but a mask, his youth but a mockery.

In the strangely simple economy of the world people only get what they give, and to those who have not enough imagination to penetrate the mere outward of things and feel pity, what pity can be given save that of scorn?

I know not whether laws be right or whether laws be wrong.

The people who love only once in their lives are really the shallow people. what they call thier loyalty, and thier fidelity, i call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination. faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect- simply a confession of failure.

The Book of Life begins with a man and a woman in a garden. It ends with Revelations.

There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love.

Women are wonderfully practical," murmured Lord Henry, "much more practical than we are. In situations of that kind we often forget to say anything about marriage, and they always remind us.

It's tragic how few people ever 'possess their souls' before they die. 'Nothing is more rare in any man', says Emerson, 'than an act of his own.' It is quite true. Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their life is a mimicry, their passions a quotation.

Ordinary people waited till life disclosed to them its secrets, but to the few, to the elect, the mysteries of life were revealed before the veil was drawn away.