Now and then it is a joy to have one's table red with wine and roses.

Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadful invalid. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or to die. This shillyshallying with the question is absurd.

Genius lasts longer than Beauty. That accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves.

I love hearing my relations abused. It is the only thing that makes me put up with them at all.

In war," answered the weaver, "the strong make slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich make slaves of the poor. We must work to live, and they give us such mean wages that we die. We toil for them all day long, and they heap up gold in their coffers, and our children fade away before their time, and the faces of those we love become hard and evil. We tread out the grapes, another drinks the wine. We sow the corn, and our own board is empty. We have chains, though no eye beholds them; and are slaves, though men call us free.

If you want to be a doormat you have to lay yourself down first.

It is art, and art only, that reveals us to ourselves.