Summary

Portrait of Frank Harris Frank Harris Oscar Wilde, His Life and Confessions…

OSCAR'S FIRST PLAY No season, it is said, is so beautiful as the brief northern summer. Three- fourths of the year is cold and dark, and the ice-bound landscape is swept by snowstorm and blizzard. Summer comes like a goddess; in a twinkling the snow vanishes and Nature puts on her robes of tenderest green; the birds arrive in flocks; flowers spring to life on all sides, and the sun shines by night as by day. Such a summertide, so beautiful and so brief, was accorded to Oscar Wilde before the final desolation.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frank Harris Frank Harris Oscar Wilde, His Life and Confessions…

They were both at lunch one day when Oscar declared that he could drink nothing but absinthe when Beardsley was present.
"Absinthe," he said, "is to all other drinks what Aubrey's drawings are to other pictures: it stands alone: it is like nothing else: it shimmers like southern twilight in opalescent colouring: it has about it the seduction of strange sins. It is stronger than any other spirit, and brings out the sub- conscious self in man. It is just like your drawings, Aubrey; it gets on one's nerves and is cruel.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frank Harris Frank Harris Oscar Wilde, His Life and Confessions…

Oscar Wilde ought to have known that in this world every real superiority is pursued with hatred, and every worker of miracles is sure to be persecuted. But he had no inkling that the Gospel story is symbolic—the life-story of genius for all time, eternally true. He never looked outside himself, and as the fruits of success were now sweet in his mouth, a pursuing Fate seemed to him the most mythical of myths. His child-like self-confidence was pathetic. The laws that govern human affairs had little interest for the man who was always a law unto himself.
Source: Gutenberg

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