Портрет Доріана Грея

Preface

           LordHenrystretchedhimselfoutonthedivanandlaughed. 

           "Yes,Iknewyouwould;butitisquitetrue,allthesame." 

           "Toomuchofyourselfinit! Uponmyword,Basil,Ididn’tknowyouweresovain; andIreallycan’tseeanyresemblancebetweenyou,withyourruggedstrongfaceandyourcoal-blackhair, andthisyoungAdonis,wholooksasifhewasmadeoutofivoryandrose-leaves. 

           Why,mydearBasil,heisaNarcissus,andyouwell,ofcourseyouhaveanintellectualexpression,andallthat. Butbeauty,realbeauty,endswhereanintellectualexpressionbegins. 

           Intellectisinitselfamodeofexaggeration,anddestroystheharmonyofanyface. Themomentonesitsdowntothink,onebecomesallnose,orallforehead,orsomethinghorrid. Lookatthesuccessfulmeninanyofthelearnedprofessions. Howperfectlyhideoustheyare!Except,ofcourse,intheChurch. ButthenintheChurchtheydon’tthink. Abishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewastoldtosaywhenhewasaboyofeighteen, andasanaturalconsequencehealwayslooksabsolutelydelightful. Yourmysteriousyoungfriend,whosenameyouhavenevertoldme,butwhosepicturereallyfascinatesme,neverthinks. Ifeelquitesureofthat. Heissomebrainless,beautifulcreature,whoshouldbealwayshereinwinter whenwehavenoflowerstolookat,andalwayshereinsummerwhenwewantsomethingtochillourintelligence. Don’tflatteryourself,Basil:youarenotintheleastlikehim." 

           "Youdon’tunderstandme,Harry,"answeredtheartist. "OfcourseIamnotlikehim. 

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