But we never get back our youthโฆ The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to.
Oscar WildeHow sad it is!" murmured Dorian Gray with his eyes still fixed upon his own portrait. "How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of Juneโฆ . If it were only the other way! If it were I who was to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old! For thatโfor thatโI would give everything! Yes, there is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul for that!
Oscar Wilde