Experience is a question of instinct about life.

The Roman Catholic Church is for saints and sinners alone - for respectable people, the Anglican Church will do.

Love is like a war; easy to start but hard to end and you never know where it might take you.

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.

I can stand brute force, but brute reason is quite unbearable.

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)

Some people always know the price, but not the value