“If you want to know what a woman really means—which, by the way, is always a dangerous thing to do—look at her, don’t listen to her.” – Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
“There is nothing like youth. The middle-aged are mortgaged to Life. The old are in life’s lumber-room. But youth is the Lord of Life. Youth has a kingdom waiting for it.” – Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
“Discontent is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation.” – Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
“When a man is old enough to do wrong he should be old enough to do right also.” – Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relations.” – Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
“The soul is born old but grows young. That is the comedy of life. And the body is born young and grows old. That is life’s tragedy.” – Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
“Nothing is serious except passion. The intellect is not a serious thing, and never has been. It is an instrument on which one plays, that is all.” – Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
“All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his.” – Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest
“The richest freedom is that which finds its limits within itself, a sense of decorum not imposed but acknowledged.” – Denis Donoghue, The Sovereign Ghost
“The true business of literature, as of all intellect, critical or creative, is to remind the powers that be, simple and corrupt as they are, of the turbulence they have to control.” – R. P. Blackmur, The Lion and the Honeycomb
“The politics of existing states is always too simple for literature; it is good only to aggravate literature.” – R. P. Blackmur, The Lion and the Honeycomb (emphasis in original)
“The ideal prince is a man of learning, eloquence, and wisdom, dedicated to civil order and justice.” – Denis Donoghue, The Ordinary Universe
“Some men and women, indeed, there are who can live on smiles and the word ‘yes’ forever. But for others (indeed for most) this is too tepid and relaxed a moral climate. Passive happiness is slack and insipid, and soon grows mawkish and intolerable. Some austerity and wintry negativity, some roughness, danger, stringency, and effort, some ‘no! no!’ must be mixed in, to produce the sense of an existence with character and texture and power.” – William James, Varieties of Religious Experience
“There is the same world for all of us, and good and evil, sin and innocence, go through it hand in hand. To shut one’s eyes to half of life that one may live securely is as though one blinded oneself that one might walk with more safety in a land of pit and precipice.” – Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere’s Fan
“In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.” – Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere’s Fan
“Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.” – Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere’s Fan
“There are books to which one listens in silence, and other books with which one argues all the time.” – Denis Donoghue, The Ordinary Universe
“Consciousness when it doesn’t clearly understand what to live for, what to die for, can only abuse and ridicule itself.” – Saul Bellow, Herzog
“We have been conscious for centuries, and look, we have not come through. The quality of our consciousness is wrong, to begin with. We need the consciousness of appreciation, not the consciousness of possession; the open hand, not the grip of claw.” – Denis Donoghue, The Ordinary Universe
“Love is wiser than Philosophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty.” – Oscar Wilde, “The Nightingale and the Rose”
“None of us can help the things life has done to us. They’re done before you realise it, and once they’re done they make you do other things until at last everything comes between you and what you’d like to be, and you’ve lost your true self for ever.” – Eugene O’Neill, Long Day’s Journey into Night
“To reconcile the demands of the imagination with the impositions of the world is a delicate exercise; especially if the natural idiom of the imagination is a language of freedom, mobility, and range, and the idiom of the world is, for the most part, deception and abuse.” – Denis Donoghue, The Ordinary Universe
“Reverence for life involves saying ‘yes’ to the human situation, limited and finite as it is; it disposes us to respect persons, to value them, to find the human predicament full of hazard and therefore full of significance; to find that moral choice is important and that life is possibility if not promise.” – Denis Donoghue, The Ordinary Universe
“If the spaces of life are occupied by generous perception, there is less room for masty things; belligerence, bravado, cruelty, condescension.” – Denis Donoghue, The Ordinary Universe
“That which checks all the police forces of avoidance is, if I can put it thus, avoidance itself. There are, for example, what are called ‘publications’: one can fail to know them, this is always possible in a given context; but one can arrange things, in a certain milieu, in order to avoid knowing that they exist; one can also, knowing of their existence, avoid reading them; one can read while avoiding ‘understanding’; one can, understanding, avoid being affected by them or using them; one can also, using them, avoid referring to them; but one can further, referring to them, enclose them, contain them, exclude them, and therefore avoid them better than ever, etc. But what is to be thought of the fact that one cannot avoid avoiding, of inevitable avoidance in all its forms—rejection, foreclusion, denegation, incorporation, and even introjective and idealizing assimilation of the other at the limit of incorporation—?” – Jacques Derrida, The Post Card (trans. Alan Bass)
“Every human formation has as its essence, and not for accidental purposes, the restraining of pleasure.” – Jacques Lacan (quoted by Jacques Derrida in The Post Card (trans. Alan Bass))
“Nor in Æschylus nor Dante, those stern masters of tenderness, in Shakespeare, the most purely human of all the great artists, in the whole of Celtic myth and legend, where the loveliness of the world is shown through a mist of tears, and the life of a man is no more than the life of a flower, is there anything that, for sheer simplicity of pathos wedded and made one with sublimity of tragic effect, can be said to equal or even approach the last act of Christ’s passion. The little supper with his companions, one of whom has already sold him for a price; the anguish in the quiet moon-lit garden; the false friend coming close to him so as to betray him with a kiss; the friend who still believed in him, and on whom as on a rock he had hoped to build a house of refuge for Man, denying him as the bird cried to the dawn; his own utter loneliness, his submission, his acceptance of everything; and along with it all such scenes as the high priest of orthodoxy rending his raiment in wrath, and the magistrate of civil justice calling for water in the vain hope of cleansing himself of that stain of innocent blood that makes him the scarlet figure of history; the coronation ceremony of sorrow, one of the most wonderful things in the whole of recorded time; the crucifixion of the Innocent One before the eyes of his mother and of the disciple whom he loved; the soldiers gambling and throwing dice for his clothes; the terrible death by which he gave the world its most eternal symbol; and his final burial in the tomb of the rich man, his body swathed in Egyptian linen with costly spices and perfumes as though he had been a king’s son.” – Oscar Wilde, “De Profundis”
“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.” – Oscar Wilde, “De Profundis”
“Many men on their release carry their prison about with them into the air, and hide it as a secret disgrace in their hearts, and at length, like poor poisoned things, creep into some hole and die. It is wretched that they should have to do so, and it is wrong, terribly wrong, of society that it should force them to do so. Society takes upon itself the right to inflict appalling punishment on the individual, but it also has the supreme vice of shallowness, and fails to realise what it has done. When the man’s punishment is over, it leaves him to himself; that is to say, it abandons him at the very moment when its highest duty towards him begins. It is really ashamed of its own actions, and shuns those whom it has punished, as people shun a creditor whose debt they cannot pay, or one on whom they have inflicted an irreparable, an irremediable wrong.” – Oscar Wilde, “De Profundis”
“The gods are strange, and punish us for what is good and humane in us as much as for what is evil and perverse.” – Oscar Wilde, “De Profundis”