What the worm was to the corpse, his sins would be to the painted image on the canvas. They would mar its beauty, and eat away its grace. they would defile it, and make it shameful. And yet the thing would still live on. It would be always alive. (Dorian Gray regarding his portrait)

The birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her.

I usually say what I really think. A great mistake nowadays. It makes one so liable to be misunderstood.

Far away beyond the pine-woods,' he answered, in a low dreamy voice, 'there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold, crystal moon looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the sleepers.

They have been eating muffins. That looks like repentance

They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever.

A man can't be too careful in the choice of his enemies.