The poet is the supreme artist, for he is the master of colour and of form, and the real musician besides, and is lord over all life and all arts.
Oscar WildeAny place you love is the world to you”, explained the pensive Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in early life, and prided herself on her broken heart; “but love is not fashionable any more, the poets have killed it. They wrote so much about that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. True love suffers, and is silent. I remember myself once- But it is no matter now. Romance is a thing of the past.
Oscar Wilde