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Oscar Wilde was a genius. I don't mean that in the typically glib internet way of idolizing dead people merely because their names are vaguely odd -- no, the man was truly the epitome of wit. I'm clever as all fuck, and generally have a rejoinder for any situation, but Mr. Wilde would no doubt talk...
On four walls he painted a glittering, gilded cacophony, golden feathers dripping down leather walls, wings that panted against the ceiling, multitudes of patterns that made a mockery of empty space. Peacocks make human noises; they scream and cry in jagged, lonely tones. But nature apologized to...
Both Janice and I are avid readers; of different breeds, though: she tries to read 50 books, page-to-page, a year, and I rarely read a book from preface to epilogue and every page in between. I went through the list of books she has read past several years and few, if any, overlap with mine. We both...
Thought is the blossom; language the bud; action the fruit behind it. -Ralph Waldo Emerson I think and think for months and years. Ninety-nine times, the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right. -Albert Einstein A man is but the product of his thoughts: what he thinks, he becomes. -Gandhi...
One should absorb the colour of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar. - Oscar Wilde a fine excuse for a fading memory - hope I remember to use it!
LOVE IN THE PIAZZA By SUSAN ASHLEY MICHAEL Prologue An angry goddess tossed a bowl of sweets, and it landed here in the lagoon, scattering shards of crystal and candy. That's how Venice came to be. I liked that. The idea of smashing something old to create something new and in this case, incredible....
"and you sir, know the price of everything - but the value of nothing." - oscar wilde
I took an art appreciation class last semester and was forced to endure four venues of culture, then write a review on each. This was the review for my theater experience. The university was playing "The Importance of Being Earnest," which is a sight better than some of the things that they have...
The Artist (by Oscar Wilde) One evening there came into his soul the desire to fashion an image of The Pleasure that abideth for a Moment. And he went forth into the world to look for bronze. For he could only think in bronze. But all the bronze of the whole world had disappeared, nor anywhere in...
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