Mitt liv på Irland

'The memory of the thing is hateful to me. Why do you talk of it? It used to remind me of those curious lines in some play - "Hamlet," I think - how do they run? -

"Like a painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart"

Yes: That is what it was like.
    Lord Henry laughed. 'If a man treats life artistically, his brain is his heart,' he answered, sinking into an arm-chair.
    Dorian Gray shook his head, and struck some soft chords on the piano. ' "Like the painting of a sorrow," ' he repeated, ' "a face without a heart." '
    The elder man lay back and looked at him with half-closed eyes. 'By the way, Dorian, ' he said after a pause, ' "How does it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose - how does the quotation go? - his own soul"?' *


The picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde (1890) page 180.


Efter att ha skrivit ner dessa rader så gjorde jag en snabbskiss på mig själv så som jag ser ut just nu. Jag använde min Wacom intuous drawing tablet så att jag kunde rita direkt in i datorn. I hope my face is not without a heart.