“Tell me is Dorian Gray very fond of you?” The painter considered for a few moments. “He likes me,” he answered, after a pause; “I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule he is charming to me, and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things. Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain. Then I feel that I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity an ornament for a summer’s day.” “Days in summer, Basil, are apt to linger,” murmured Lord Henry. “Perhaps you will tire sooner than he will. It is a sad thing to think of, but there is no doubt that Genius last longer than Beauty. That accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves. In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. The thoroughly well-informed man– that is the modern ideal. And the mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric- a – brac shop, all monsters and dust, with everything priced above its proper value….( I can’t help but think of Adam Schiff.)
Comment: To me these words flow like a river…. this is the aim of literature….. to take people where they can’t go by themselves, to enlighten…. to make them say…”Yes I have felt exactly like that many times.”… The goal of the writer should be to take his audience exactly where he is…. visit me at…littleraventhepoet.blog… for political satirical comedy, biblical and world religion studies, and my poetry….Frank
Frankie The Earthman 