Oscar Wilde

Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.

Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.

We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell

We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell

The books that the world calls immoral are the books that show the world its own shame.

The books that the world calls immoral are the books that show the world its own shame.

And thus we rust Life's iron chain Degraded and alone: And some men curse, and some men weep, read more

And thus we rust Life's iron chain Degraded and alone: And some men curse, and some men weep, And some men make no moan: But God's eternal Laws are kind And break the heart of stone. And every human heart that breaks, In prison-cell or yard, Is as that broken box that gave Its treasure to the Lord, And filled the unclean leper's house With the scent of costliest nard. Ah! happy they whose hearts can break And peace of pardon win! How else may man make straight his plan And cleanse his soul from sin? How else but through a broken heart May Lord Christ enter in?

Art is the most intense mode of invidualism that the world has known.

Art is the most intense mode of invidualism that the world has known.