敏水卉 340万字 685364人读过 连载
"how unreasonable of her! you should give her warning."
"i am not even singed. my wings are untouched."
"i am too fond of reading books to care to write them, mr. erskine. i should like to write a novel certainly, a novel that would be as lovely as a persian carpet and as unreal. but there is no literary public in england for anything except newspapers, primers, and encyclopaedias. of all people in the world the english have the least sense of the beauty of literature."
"ah, then," said lord henry, rising to go, "then, my dear dorian, you would have to fight for your victories. as it is, they are brought to you. no, you must keep your good looks. we live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful. we cannot spare you. and now you had better dress and drive down to the club. we are rather late, as it is."
"oh, dont be so serious, jim. you are like one of the heroes of those silly melodramas mother used to be so fond of acting in. i am not going to quarrel with you. i have seen him, and oh! to see him is perfect happiness. we wont quarrel. i know you would never harm any one i love, would you?"