Портрет Дориана Грея

           "Well,perhapsyouareright. Andnowgood-bye,Dorian. Youhavebeentheonepersoninmylifewhohasreallyinfluencedmyart. WhateverIhavedonethatisgood,Iowetoyou. Ah!youdon’tknowwhatitcostmetotellyouallthatIhavetoldyou." 

           "MydearBasil,"saidDorian,"whathaveyoutoldme? Simplythatyoufeltthatyouadmiredmetoomuch. Thatisnotevenacompliment." 

           "Itwasnotintendedasacompliment. Itwasaconfession. NowthatIhavemadeit,somethingseemstohavegoneoutofme. Perhapsoneshouldneverputone’sworshipintowords." 

           "Itwasaverydisappointingconfession." 

           "Why,whatdidyouexpect,Dorian? Youdidn’tseeanythingelseinthepicture,didyou? Therewasnothingelsetosee?" 

           "No;therewasnothingelsetosee. Whydoyouask? Butyoumustn’ttalkaboutworship. Itisfoolish. YouandIarefriends,Basil,andwemustalwaysremainso." 

           "YouhavegotHarry,"saidthepainter,sadly. 

           "Oh,Harry! "criedthelad,witharippleoflaughter. "Harryspendshisdaysinsayingwhatisincredible,andhiseveningsindoingwhatisimprobable. JustthesortoflifeIwouldliketolead. ButstillIdon’tthinkIwouldgotoHarryifIwereintrouble. Iwouldsoonergotoyou,Basil." 

           "Youwillsittomeagain?" 

           "Impossible!"