«Портрет Дориана Грея / The Picture of Dorian Gray» kitabından alıntılar, sayfa 3

“Whose is it?” “Dorian’s, of course,” answered the painter. “He is a very lucky fellow.” “How sad it is!” said Dorian Gray, who was still staring at his own portrait. “I will grow old and horrible. But this painting will always stay young. It will never be older than this day in June… If only it were the other way!” “What do you mean?” asked Hallward. “If I could stay young and the picture grow old! For that – for that – I would give everything! Yes, there is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul for that!” “I don’t think you would like that, Basil!” cried Lord Henry,

And yet, what was there to be afraid of? He was not a schoolboy or a girl. It was silly to be afraid. “Let us go and sit out of the sun. I don’t want you to be burnt by the sun.” “What does that matter?” cried Dorian Gray, laughing as he sat down on the seat at the end of the garden. “It should matter very much to you, Mr. Gray.” “Why?” “Because you are young, and youth is the best thing in the world.” “I don’t feel that, Lord Henry.” “No, you don’t feel it now. Some day when you are old and ugly you will feel it terribly. Now, wherever you go, you charm the world. Will it always be so? You have a wonderfully beautiful face, Mr. Gray.” “I don’t think.” “Don’t frown. It is true. The gods have been good to you. But what the gods give they quickly take away.[18] You have only a few years in which to really live, perfectly and fully. Live your life now, while you are still young!” Suddenly the painter appeared at the door and waved at them to come in. They turned to each other and smiled. “I am waiting,” he cried. “Do come in. The light is quite perfect, and you can bring your drinks.”

And yet it seems to me to be the one thing I have been looking for all my life.”

the conversation and only knew that there was a new look on the boy’s face. “And yet,” continued Lord Henry, in his low musical voice, “I believe that if one man lived his life fully and completely he could change the world. He would be a work of art greater than anything we have ever imagined. But the bravest man among us is afraid of himself. You, Mr. Gray, are very young but you have had passions that have made you afraid, dreams —” “Stop!” cried Dorian Gray, “I don’t know what to say. There is some answer to you, but I cannot find it. Don’t speak. Let me think. Or, rather, let me try not to think.” For nearly ten minutes he stood there with his lips open and his eyes strangely bright. The words that Basil’s friend had spoken had touched his soul. Yes, there had been things in his boyhood that he had not understood. He understood them now. With his smile, Lord Henry watched him. He knew the exact moment when to say nothing. He was surprised at the sudden effect of his words on the boy. How fascinating the boy was! Hallward continued painting and did not notice that the others were silent. “Basil, I am tired of standing,” cried Dorian Gray suddenly. “I must go out and sit in the garden. The air is stifling here.” “My dear fellow, I am so sorry. When I am painting, I can’t think of anything else. But you never sat better.

You used to be so kind and innocent.

“I went back the next night and the night after that.

painter answered, moving his head in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford. “No, I won’t send it anywhere.”

Certainly few people had ever interested him so much as Dorian Gray. Yet

The studio was filled with the rich smell of roses.

still. And I have caught the effect I wanted. I don’t know what Harry has been saying to you, but there is a wonderful bright look in your eyes. I suppose he has been flattering you. You mustn’t believe a word that he says.” “He has certainly not been flattering me. Perhaps that is the reason that I don’t believe anything he has told me.” “You know you believe it all,” said Lord Henry, looking at him with his dreamy eyes. “I will go out to the garden with you. It is horribly hot in the studio. Basil, let us have something iced to drink, something with strawberries in it.” “Don’t keep Dorian too long,” said the painter. “This is going to be my masterpiece.” Lord Henry went out to the garden, and found Dorian Gray holding a flower to his face. He came close to him, and put his hand on his shoulder. Dorian Gray frowned and turned his head away. He liked the tall young man who was standing by him. His dark, romantic face interested him. There was something in his low, musical voice that was fascinating. But he felt a little afraid. Why was this stranger having a strong influence on him like this? He had known Basil Hallward for months, but the friendship between them had not changed him. Suddenly someone had come into his life and turned it upside down.[17] Someone who seemed to have the key to the mystery of life itself.