The Ballad of Reading Gaol

Three stanzas from Oscar Wilde’s poem The Ballad of Reading Gaol with three images from Roma.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves
  By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
  Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
  The brave man with a sword!



Some kill their love when they are young,
  And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
  Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
  The dead so soon grow cold.



Some love too little, some too long,
  Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
  And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
  Yet each man does not die.

Photo: MM

Pleasure is Nature’s test, her sign of approval. When man is happy, he is in harmony with himself and his environment.

—Oscar Wilde

True friends stab you in the front.

—

Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.

—

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.

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I am not young enough to know everything.

—

Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.

—

Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

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If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you.

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Genius is born – not paid.

—Oscar Wilde