Chapter 1
one of us makes an ass of into t, tion e magnificent. And yet I dont suppose t ten per cent of tariat live correctly.quot;
quot;I dont agree you is more, eit;
Lord roked ed broapped toe of ent-leat asselled ebony cane. quot; is time you observation. If one puts foro a true Engliso do-- or ance is soever to do y of t. Indeed, ties are t tellectual case it be coloured by eits, propose to discuss politics, sociology, or metapter tter tell me more about Mr. Dorian Gray. en do you see ;
quot;Every day. I couldnt be see ely necessary to me.quot;
quot;raordinary! I t you your art.quot;
quot; to me no; said ter gravely. quot;I sometimes t tance in tory. t is t, and ty for art also. tion of oil-painting o tians, tinous o late Greek sculpture, and to me. It is not merely t I paint from c. But o me tter. I tell you t I am dissatisfied I y is suc art cannot express it. t art cannot express, and I kno t Dorian Gray, is good in some curious and me?--y ed to me an entirely ne, an entirely neyle. I see tly, I tly. I can noe life in a ; but it is o me little more ty-- t means? Unconsciously is to all tic spirit, all tion of t t is Greek. t is! e in our madness ed t is vulgar, an ideality t is void. Dorian Gray is to me! You remember t landscape of mine, for is one of t t so? Because, , Dorian Gray sat beside me. Some subtle influence passed from o me, and for t time in my life I sa;
quot;Basil, traordinary! I must see Dorian Gr