Actual life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical in the imagination. It was the imagination that set remorse to dog the feet of sin. It was the imagination that made each crime bear its misshapen brood. In the common world of fact the wicked were not punished, nor the good rewarded. Success was given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak. That was all.
It is much more easy to have sympathy with suffering than it is to have sympathy with thought.
Most of our modern portrait painters are doomed to absolute oblivion. They never paint what they see. They paint what the public sees, and the public never sees anything.
I want my food dead. Not sick, not dying, dead.
Consistency is the last refuge of the unimagininative.
Thinking is the most unhealthy thing in the world, and people die of it just as they die of any other disease. Fortunately, in England at any rate, thought is not catching.
One is not always happy when one is good; but one is always good when one is happy.
It is a sad truth, but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things. Names are everything. I never quarrel with actions. My one quarrel is with words. The man who could call a spade a spade should be compelled to use one. It is the only thing he is fit for.
The proper basis for marriage is mutual misunderstanding. The happiness of a married man depends on the people he has not married. One should always be in love - that's the reason one should never marry.
In a temple everything should be serious except the thing that is being worshiped.
He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realize
As for omens, there is no such thing as an omen. Destiny does not send us heralds. She is too wise or too cruel for that.
I write because it gives me the greatest possible artistic pleasure to write. If my work pleases the few I am gratified. As for the mob, I have no desire to be a popular novelist. It is far too easy.
A grapefruit is just a lemon that saw an opportunity and took advantage of it.
He wants to enslave you.' 'I shudder at the thought of being free.
I put my talent in my work, I save my Genius for my life.
The Roman Catholic Church is for saints and sinners alone - for respectable people, the Anglican Church will do.
When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.
Nothing, indeed, is more dangerous to the young artist than any conception of ideal beauty: he is constantly led by it either into weak prettiness or lifeless abstraction: whereas to touch the ideal at all you must not strip it of vitality. You must find it in life and re-create it in art.
Wordsworth went to the Lakes, but he was never a lake poet. He found in stones the sermons he had already hidden there.
The stage is not merely the meeting place of all the arts, but is also the return of art to life.
Nobody of any real culture, for instance, ever talks nowadays about the beauty of sunset. Sunsets are quite old fashioned. To admire them is a distinct sign of provincialism of temperament. Upon the other hand they go on.
Life! Life! Don't let us go to life for our fulfillment or our experience. It is a thing narrowed by circumstances, incoherent in its utterance, and without that fine correspondence of form and spirit which is the only thing that can satisfy the artistic
The truth about the life of a man is not what he does, but the legend which he creates around himself.
Walt Whitman and Emerson are the poets who have given the world more than anyone else. Perhaps Whitman is not so widely read in England, but England never appreciates a poet until he is dead.
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