Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde
Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wildewas an Irish playwright, novelist, essayist, and poet. After writing in different forms throughout the 1880s, he became one of London's most popular playwrights in the early 1890s. He is remembered for his epigrams, his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, his plays, as well as the circumstances of his imprisonment and early death...
NationalityIrish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth16 October 1854
CityDublin, Ireland
CountryIreland
Misfortunes one can endure - they come from outside, they are accidents. But to suffer for one's own faults - Ah! there is the sting of life.
Misfortunes one can endure -- they come from outside, they are accidents. But to suffer for one's own faults -- Ah! there is the sting of life.
It is well for our vanity that we slay the criminal, for if we suffered him to live he might show us what we had gained by his crime.
Anybody can sympathize with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature it requires, in fact, that nature of a true Individualist to sympathize with a friend's success.
Misfortunes one can endure--they come from outside, they are accidents. But to suffer for one's own faults--ah!--there is the sting of life.
I can sympathize with everything, except suffering.
It is much more easy to have sympathy with suffering than it is to have sympathy with thought.
The burden of this world is too great for one man to bear, and the world’s sorrow too heavy for one heart to suffer.
I am sorry my life is so marred and maimed by extravagance. But I cannot live otherwise. I, at any rate, pay the penalty of suffering.
Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world.
Anybody can sympathise with all the sufferings of the pal, nevertheless it involves an extremely great mother nature to sympathise by using a friend's achievement.
Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons.
Clergymen and people who use phrases without wisdom sometimes talk of suffering as a mystery. It is really a revelation.
There is nothing that stirs in the whole world of thought to which sorrow does not vibrate in terrible and exquisite pulsation.