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Quote by Oscar Wilde

“I tought how tragic it would be if you were wasted. For there is such a little time that your youth will last - such a little time. The common hill-flowers wither, but they blossom again. The laburnum will be as yellow next June as it is now. In a month there will be purple stars on the clematis, and year after year the green night of its leaves will hold its purple stars. But we never get back our youth. The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to. Youth! Youth! There is absolutely nothing in the world but youth.”

Quote by Oscar Wilde

Work

The Picture of Dorian Gray and Three Stories

This compilation includes Oscar Wilde's renowned novel 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', a tale of a man who remains youthful while his portrait ages, reflecting his moral decay. Accompanying this are three other short stories, which may vary in genre and thematic content, contributing to a diverse literary experience. more

Author

Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde

Oscar Wilde, born on October 16, 1854, in Ireland, and died on November 30, 1900, was a renowned Irish writer, playwright, and poet. His works are known for their wit, satire, and unique style, with notable works including 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' and 'Lady Windermere's Fan'. more

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“رایحه یک آرزو و هدف است. نه فقط ابزاری برای اغواگری، بلکه برای قدرت و مقام. می دانی باستانیان چقدر برای کُندُر یا درخت مُر می پرداختند؟ کل امپراتوری آنها بر اساس تجارت این کالا ساخته شده بود. می بینی، حتی بعد، وقتی زندگی کوتاه و ظالمانه بود، مردم می خواستند بوی متفاوتی بدهند و از خود بی خود شوند.”

“People say hate is a wasted emotion, a destructive force you can do nothing useful with. They’re wrong. I’ve gripped rage, I’ve wielded it like a weapon. It takes someone special to make you feel it for the first time. A person you would love, if they’d only let you. But their scorn shrivels you up, like a crape gown in the rain. They show you an image of yourself, and it’s weak and loathsome, even to your own eyes.”