"What is a bad man?"
"A man who smokes gold-tipped cigarettes."
"Which would you rather, or go fishing?" inquired the Mere Boy, irreverently.
"Because it's a jar, of course. There are two kinds of women, the plain and the coloured. But all art is quite useless."
"I say!" exclaimed Lord Henry, taking from his friend's pocket a gold match-box, curiously carved, and wrought with his initials in chrysoprases and peridots. "I say, you know, Illingworth—come—that's mine. I said it to Dorian only the other evening. You're always saying my things."
"Well, what then? It is only the obvious and the tedious who object to quotations. When a man says life has exhausted him——"
"We know that he has exhausted life."
"Women are secrets, not sphinxes."
"Mine again," exclaimed Lord Henry.
"It would be useful to carry a little book to note down your good things."