Oscar Wilde Quotes About Sadness

• Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.

  Oscar Wilde

  Inspirational, Life, Spiritual

  Oscar Wilde (2007). “Epigrams of Oscar Wilde”, p.215, Wordsworth Editions

• How else but through a broken heart may Lord Christ enter in?

  Oscar Wilde

  Sad, Broken Heart, Heartbreak

  The Ballad of Reading Gaol pt. 5, st. 14 (1898)

• It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information.

  Oscar Wilde

  Life, Sadness, Useless Things

  Oscar Wilde (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Oscar Wilde (Illustrated)”, p.1670, Delphi Classics

• 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. ... For this reason there is no truth comparable to sorrow. There are times when sorrow seems to me to be the only truth. Other things may be illusions of the eye or the appetite, made to blind the one and cloy the other, but out of sorrow have the worlds been built, and at the birth of a child or a star there is pain.

  Oscar Wilde

  Sad, Stars, Pain

• Prosperity, pleasure and success, may be rough of grain and common in fibre, but sorrow is the most sensitive of all created things. There is nothing that stirs in the whole world of thought to which sorrow does not vibrate in terrible and exquisite pulsation. The thin beaten-out leaf of tremulous gold that chronicles the direction of forces the eye cannot see is in comparison coarse. It is a wound that bleeds when any hand but that of love touches it, and even then must bleed again, though not in pain.

  Oscar Wilde

  Sad, Pain, Eye

  Oscar Wilde (1909). “De profundus”

• Where there is sorrow, there is holy ground.

  Oscar Wilde

  Sympathy, Grief, Condolences

  Letter to Alfred Douglas, Jan. - Mar. 1897

• Is it thy will that I should wax and wane,
  Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey,
  And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
  Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day?

  Oscar Wilde

  Sad, Pain, Gold

  Oscar Wilde (2007). “The Collected Works of Oscar Wilde”, p.847, Wordsworth Editions

• But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night Covers the days which never more return? Ambition, love and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight In withered husks of some dead memory.

  Oscar Wilde

  Sad, Memories, Ambition

  Oscar Wilde, Russell Jackson, Ian Small (2000). “The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: Poems and poems in prose”, p.25, Oxford University Press on Demand

• For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us. Outside, the day may be blue and gold, but the light that creeps down through the thickly-muffled glass of the small iron-barred window beneath which one sits is grey and niggard. It is always twilight in one's cell, as it is always twilight in one's heart. And in the sphere of thought, no less than in the sphere of time, motion is no more.

  Oscar Wilde

  Sad, Taken, Twilight

  Oscar Wilde, Russell Jackson, Ian Small (2000). “The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: De profundis, "Epistola : in carcere et vinculis"”, p.82, Oxford University Press on Demand

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