'What should we call you, Harry?' she asked.
'His name is Prince paradox,' said Dorian.
'I recognise him in a flash,' exclaimed the Duchess.
'I won't hear of it,' laughed Lord Henry, sinking into a chair.
'From a label there is no escape! I refuse the title,' he added.
'Royalties may not abdicate,' fell a warning from pretty lips.
'You wish me to defend my throne then?'
'I give the truths of tomorrow.'
'I prefer the mistakes of today.' she answered.
'you disarm me, gladys,' he cried, catching the wilfulness of her mood.
'Of your shield, Harry; not of your spear.'
'I never tilt against beauty,' he said, with a wave of his hand.
'That is your error, Harry, believe me. You value beauty far too much.'
'Ugliness is one of the seven deadly virtues, gladys.'
'What of Art?' she asked.
'It is a malady.'
'The fasionable substitute for Belief.'
'You are a sceptic.'
'Never! Scepticism is the beginning of Faith.'
'What are you?'
'To define is to limit.'
'Give me a clue.'
'Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth.'
'You bewilder me. Let us talk of someone else.'
(Edited from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde)
My interests (A short-list)