Портрет Доріана Грея

           "Becausetoinfluenceapersonistogivehimone’sownsoul. Hedoesnotthinkhisnaturalthoughts,orburnwithhisnaturalpassions.Hisvirtuesarenotrealtohim.Hissins,iftherearesuchthingsassins,areborrowed. Hebecomesanechoofsomeoneelse’smusic,anactorofapartthathasnotbeenwrittenforhim. Theaimoflifeisself-development.Torealiseone’snatureperfectly—thatiswhateachofusisherefor. Peopleareafraidofthemselves,nowadays.Theyhaveforgottenthehighestofallduties,thedutythatoneowestoone’sself. Ofcoursetheyarecharitable.Theyfeedthehungry,andclothethebeggar.Buttheirownsoulsstarve,andarenaked. Couragehasgoneoutofourrace.Perhapsweneverreallyhadit. Theterrorofsociety,whichisthebasisofmorals,theterrorofGod,whichisthesecretofreligion—thesearethetwothingsthatgovernus.Andyet——" 

           "Justturnyourheadalittlemoretotheright,Dorian,likeagoodboy,"saidthepainter, deepinhiswork,andconsciousonlythatalookhadcomeintothelad’sfacethathehadneverseentherebefore. 

           "Andyet,"continuedLordHenry,inhislow,musicalvoice,andwiththatgracefulwaveofthehand thatwasalwayssocharacteristicofhim,andthathehadeveninhisEtondays, "Ibelievethatifonemanweretoliveouthislifefullyandcompletely,weretogiveformtoeveryfeeling,expressiontoeverythought,realitytoeverydream —Ibelievethattheworldwouldgainsuchafreshimpulseofjoythatwewouldforgetallthemaladiesofmediævalism,andreturntotheHellenicideal —tosomethingfiner,richer,thantheHellenicideal,itmaybe. Butthebravestmanamongstusisafraidofhimself.Themutilationofthesavagehasitstragicsurvivalintheself-denialthatmarsourlives. Wearepunishedforourrefusals.Everyimpulsethatwestrivetostranglebroodsinthemind,andpoisonsus. Thebodysinsonce,andhasdonewithitssin,foractionisamodeofpurification. Nothingremainsthenbuttherecollectionofapleasure,ortheluxuryofaregret. Theonlywaytogetridofatemptationistoyieldtoit.