“And as a high moral tone can hardly be said to conduce very much to either one's health or one's happiness, in order to get up to town I have always pretended to have a younger brother of the name of Ernest, who lives in the Albany, and gets into the most dreadful scrapes. That, my dear Algy, is the whole truth pure and simple.
Algernon. The truth is rarely pure and never simple.
Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a complete impossibility!
jack. That wouldn't be at all a bad thing.
Algernon. Literary criticism is not your forte, my dear fellow.”