I haven't ever read it

Why would my sister gift me a copy of Dorian Gray? Is she trying to tell me something?

Yes. She's trying to tell that you're a pathetic faggot who hasn't read the basic classics.

she's trying to tell you that you're a socially anxious little bitch

She's telling you she has good taste.

No need to be so rude. I heard it was a terrible book.

but it's not terrible

is she flirting with him?

She's not flirting with me.

>I heard it was a terrible book.
LOL from who

From my friend and also from here.

wasn't asking you

nigga, it's better than anything you or anybody you've met will ever write.

as a matter of taste, well, that's personal. but here's a little test: if it's older than 100 years old and it's still in print, it's objectively worthwhile. all the garbage gets forgotten by then.

>nigga, it's better than anything you or anybody you've met will ever write.
This is true for almost anything
>as a matter of taste, well, that's personal. but here's a little test: if it's older than 100 years old and it's still in print, it's objectively worthwhile. all the garbage gets forgotten by then.
I didn't know how old the book was, but this is true.

it's ridiculously short and wouldn't take more than two hours to finish- give it a try user.

i'd also gift this to someone for leisure enjoyment.

I was going to read it anyway because she would probably be insulted if i didn't

Read only the Preface and you'll be able to say things like this: the rage of the general public with respect to the President they elected is the rage of Caliban beholding his own face in the mirror. Which also happens to be true. Also, you should obsess over Lord Henry Wotton, become interested in Pater, read his works and make him your Virgil of Lit. This, by the way, wd be the Royal secret shortcut toward Patricianship.

You can even 'begin with the Greeks' via Pater-- Greek Studies is fabulous!

Women love Oscar Wilde, I dont know why you're surprised. It's either Anne Rice or Oscar Wilde.

hey bro post pics of your sisters feet

She's trying to tell you she likes little boys and wants to /ss/

>Jonathan Fryer's Andre and Oscar reveals previously unexplored similarities between the two. They both had powerful, slightly dotty mothers whose influence on them was decisive. They both came from established families, which hindered, at least in the beginning, the extent to which they could practise their unconventional philosophies. They both chose to marry, despite being homosexual, and both genuinely loved their respective wives, albeit with gay abandon. They both preferred young boys to grown men, when they had the choice - Wilde went in for the tough blond things who strutted their stuff around Piccadilly Circus, Gide for the lithe, charming Arab kids who, then as now, formed little groups around foreigners.

>Wilde lost his virginity to Robbie Ross when the latter was a year below the current age of consent, and the boys Wilde wined and dined were frequently younger than that - as when he became involved with a 16-year-old who had been smuggled into London from Bruges to be installed in the Albermarle Hotel. According to Oscar Browning, the pederastic Victorian public-school master, "on Saturday, the boy slept with Douglas; on Sunday he slept with Oscar. On Monday he slept with a woman at Douglas's expense."

>Fryer also writes, as though it was not particularly controversial, of Douglas taking a boy-lover named Ali in Algeria, whom he cruelly whipped after the boy was said to have been sleeping with women. Gide informed his own mother, of all people, that even when that relationship ended, the child was not still in his teens. Ali has been written about before. But Fryer further claims, this time controversially, that Douglas told Gide he was looking forward to seducing Wilde's nine-year-old son, Cyril, as soon as he got the opportunity. It is not suggested that Wilde raised any objection to this sort of talk; nor does Fryer himself raise any objections. Unlike most of Wilde's friends, Douglas didn't have to pretend to be decadent, and most readers will sigh with relief that the relationship between Wilde and Douglas ended, however terrible the circumstances, before little Cyril could face the potential consequences of the latter's advances.

Andre Gide:
>Wilde took a key out of his pocket and showed me into a tiny apartment of two rooms… The youths followed him, each of them wrapped in a burnous that hid his face. Then the guide left us and Wilde sent me into the further room with little Mohammed and shut himself up in the other with the [other boy]. Every time since then that I have sought after pleasure, it is the memory of that night I have pursued. […] My joy was unbounded, and I cannot imagine it greater, even if love had been added.

Kek. Do you believe everything you're told?