I can't help detesting my relations. I suppose it comes from the fact that none of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves.
Each of us has heaven and hell in him, Basil, cried Dorian with a wild gesture of despair.
I am getting rather astonishing in my Italian conversation. I believe I talk a mixture of Dante and the worst modern slang.
Oh! I don't think I would like to catch a sensible man. I shouldn't know what to talk to him about.