The only way to behave to a woman, is to make love to her if she is pretty and to someone else if she is plain. Women give to men the very gold of their lives. Possibly; but they invariably want it back in such very small change. Define women as a sex? Sphinxes without secrets. What do you call a bad man? The sort of man who admires innocence. What do you call a bad woman? Oh! the sort of woman a man never gets tired of. One can resist everything except temptation. Don't let us go to life for our fulfilment or our experience. It is a thing narrowed by circumstances, incoherent in its utterance, and without that fine correspondence or form and spirit which is the only thing that can satisfy the artistic and critical temperament. It is a dangerous thing to reform anyone. One can always know at once whether a man has home claims upon his life or not. I have noticed a very, very sad expression in the eyes of so many married men. A mother who doesn't part with a daughter every season has no real affection. To be good is to be in harmony with oneself. Discord is to be forced to be in harmony with others. A really grand passion is comparatively rare nowadays. It is the privilege of people who have nothing to do. That is the one use of the idle classes in a country. There is no secret of life. Life's aim, if it has one, is simply to be always looking for temptations. There are not nearly enough of them; I sometimes pass a whole day without coming across a single one. It is quite dreadful. It makes one so nervous about the future. All thought is immoral. Its very essence is destruction. If you think of anything you kill it; nothing survives being thought of. What is truth? In matters of religion it is simply the opinion that has survived. In matters of science it is the ultimate sensation. In matters of art it is one's last mood. It is so easy to convert others. It is so difficult to convert oneself. A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. Life cheats us with shadows, like a puppet-master. We ask it for pleasure. It gives it to us, with bitterness and disappointment in its train. We come across some noble grief that we think will lend the purple dignity of tragedy to our days, but it passes away from us, and things less noble take its place, and on some grey, windy dawn, or odorous eve of silence and of silver, we find ourselves looking with callous wonder, or dull heart of stone, at the tress of gold-flecked hair that we had once so wildly worshipped and so madly kissed. There are two ways of disliking art One is to dislike it and the other to like it rationally. There is nothing sane about the worship of beauty. It is too splendid to be sane. Those of whose lives it forms the dominant note will always seem to the world to be mere visionaries.