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 WildeI wanted to eat of the fruit of all the trees in the garden of the worldโฆ And so, indeed, I went out, and so I lived. My only mistake was that I confined myself so exclusively to the trees of what seemed to me the sun-lit side of the garden, and shunned the other side for its shadow and its gloom.
Oscar WildeTo regret oneโs own experiences is to arrest oneโs own development. To deny oneโs own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of oneโs own life. It is no less than a denial of the soul.
Oscar WildeIt is well for his peace that the saint goes to his martyrdom. He is spared the sight of the horror of his harvest.
Oscar Wilde