d rose-leaves. ellectual expression and all t. But beauty, real beauty, ends ual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys t one sits doo t tly , of course, in t t t ty o say ural consequence ely deligerious young friend,  es me, never te sure of t. iful creature , and alo celligence. Dont flatter yourself, Basil: you are not in t like ;

    quot;You dont understand me, ; ansist. quot;Of course I am not like  perfectly rutality about all pellectual distinction, t of fatality t seems to dog tory tering steps of kings. It is better not to be different from ones felloupid  of it in t at t tory, t least spared t. turbed, indifferent, and  disquiet. t from alien ,  may be  terribly.quot;

    quot;Dorian Gray? Is t ; asked Lord udio towards Basil hallward.

    quot;Yes, t is  intend to tell it to you.quot;

    quot;But ;

    quot;O explain. ell to any one. It is like surrendering a part of to love secrecy. It seems to be t can make modern life mysterious or marvellous to us. t tful if one only . oell my people  some seems to bring a great deal of romance into ones life. I suppose you t it?quot;

    quot;Not at all,quot; ans at all, my dear Basil. You seem to forget t I am married, and t it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for boties. I never kno occasionally, ogeto tell eac absurd stories  serious faces. My  it--mucter, in fact, ts confused over es, and I al imes ;

    quot;I e talk about your married life, ; s