Dorian Gray laughed, and tossed¹
his head. "You are quite incorrigible,²
Harry;
but I don't mind. It is impossible to be angry with you. When you see Sibyl
Vane, you will feel that the man who could wrong her would be a beast, a
beast without a heart. I cannot understand³
how any one can wish to shame
the thing he loves. I love Sibyl Vane. I want to place her on a pedestal⁴
of gold⁵
and to see the world worship⁶
the woman who is mine. What is marriage?
An irrevocable⁷
vow.⁸
You mock⁹
at it for that. Ah! don't mock. It is an irrevocable
vow¹⁰
that I want to take. Her trust¹¹
makes me faithful, her belief makes me
good. When I am with her, I regret all that you have taught me. I become
different¹²
from what you have known me to be. I am changed, and the mere
touch of Sibyl Vane's hand makes me forget you and all your wrong, fascinating,
poisonous, delightful theories."
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¹shook;
²cannot be corrected;
³comprehend;
⁴sort of display;
⁵metal;
⁶adore;
⁷permanent;
⁸promise;
⁹joke;
¹⁰promise;
¹¹confidence;
¹²not the same;
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"And those are ...?" asked Lord Henry, helping himself to some salad.
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"Oh, your theories about life, your theories about love, your theories about
pleasure. All your theories, in fact, Harry."
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"Pleasure is the only thing worth having a theory about," he answered in
his slow melodious¹
voice. "But I am afraid I cannot claim my theory as my
own. It belongs to Nature, not to me. Pleasure is Nature's test, her sign
of approval. When we are happy, we are always good, but when we are good,
we are not always happy."
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1) singing;
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"Ah! but what do you mean by good?" cried Basil Hallward.
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"Yes," echoed Dorian, leaning back in his chair and looking at Lord Henry
over the heavy clusters of purple-lipped irises that stood in the centre
of the table, "what do you mean by good, Harry?"
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"To be good is to be in harmony with one's self," he replied, touching the
thin stem of his glass with his pale, fine-pointed fingers. "Discord is
to be forced to be in harmony with others. One's own life--that is the important
thing. As for the lives of one's neighbours, if one wishes to be a prig
or a Puritan, one can flaunt one's moral views about them, but they are
not one's concern. Besides, individualism has really the higher aim. Modern
morality consists in accepting the standard of one's age. I consider that
for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age is a form of the
grossest immorality."
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"But, surely, if one lives merely for one's self, Harry, one pays a terrible
price for doing so?" suggested the painter.
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"Yes, we are overcharged for everything nowadays. I should fancy that the
real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford nothing but self-denial.
Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege of the rich."
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"One has to pay in other ways but money."
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"What sort of ways, Basil?"
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