MihaElla > Recent Status Updates

Alas! I will never venture barefoot into the heart of the wild forest again! At least until I get used to the climate…

but ego never allowed me to place myself below what my intelligence could do...

The secret of the subconscious of the average person - they live interestedly the romantic side of things, and romantically, the gross side of life.

that I suffer may indeed seem to contradict the existence of an entirely good Creator, but this fact proves neither the non-existence of a Creator, nor the existence of an evil Creator, any more than it proves the existence of an impartial Creator. It only proves that there is evil in this world - which is not at all a discovery, and which no one has yet thought of denying.

I have always been a meticulous thinker, careful both with the language I write in, but also with the chain of ideas I present.

These pages are not my confession, but only my definition. And I feel, as I begin to write them, that I will be able to do so with a certain amount of truth.

Gwendolen. 
Ernest! My own Ernest! I felt from the first that you could have no other name!

Jack. 
Gwendolen, it is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly that all his life he has been speaking nothing but the truth. Can you forgive me?

Gwendolen. 
I can. For I feel that you are sure to change.

Jack. 
My own one!

Cecily. 
I keep a diary in order to enter the wonderful secrets of my life. If I didn’t write them down, I should probably forget all about them.

Miss Prism. 
Memory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carry about with us.

Cecily. 
Yes, but it usually chronicles the things that have never happened, and couldn’t possibly have happened. 

SCENE
Garden at the Manor House. A flight of grey stone steps leads up to the house. The garden, an old-fashioned one, full of roses. Time of year, July. Basket chairs, and a table covered with books, are set under a large yew-tree.

🤭a perfect scene to fly on vacation, yet daydreaming is satisfactory too

Algernon. 
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his.

Jack. 
Is that clever?

Algernon. 
It is perfectly phrased! and quite as true as any observation in civilised life should be.

Jack. 
I am sick to death of cleverness. 

I forgot to tell you that last night I had a present sent me (I found it, when I came home, in my chamber) of the finest wild fowl I ever saw, with the vilest letter, and from the vilest poet in the world, who sent it me as a bribe to get him an employment.

😂

Men are not to be believed. I don't think her a fool. Who would have her? Dilly will be governed like an ass; and she will govern like a lion. Is not that true?

Hearts live by being wounded.

Men always want to be a woman’s first love. That is their clumsy vanity. We women have a more subtle instinct about things. What we like is to be a man’s last romance.

Mrs. Allonby.
Curious thing, plain women are always jealous of their husbands, beautiful women never are!

Lord Illingworth.
Beautiful women never have time. They are always so occupied in being jealous of other people’s husbands.

Mrs. Allonby.
I should have thought Lady Caroline would have grown tired of conjugal anxiety by this time!  Sir John is her fourth!

Mrs. Allonby.
I think to elope is cowardly. It’s running away from danger. And danger has become so rare in modern life.

Lady Caroline.
As far as I can make out, the young women of the present day seem to make it the sole object of their lives to be always playing with fire.

Gerald. [To Hester.] 
You have not congratulated me yet, Miss Worsley.

Hester.
Are you very pleased about it?

Gerald.
Of course I am.  It means everything to me—things that were out of the reach of hope before may be within hope’s reach now.

Hester.
Nothing should be out of the reach of hope.  Life is a hope.

I came home early, and have read two hundred pages of Arran. Alexander the Great is just dead: I do not think he was poisoned; betwixt you and me, all those are but idle stories: it is certain that neither Ptolemy nor Aristobulus thought so, and they were both with him when he died. It is a pity we have not their histories.

My third cold is now very troublesome on my breast, especially in the morning. This is a great revolution in my health; colds never used to return so soon with me, or last so long.

🤓 Covid?!

Tell me how it passes with you. I think this paper is larger than ordinary; for here is six days' journal, and no nearer the bottom. I fear these journals are very dull.

🤭well, truth is hard sometimes, yet don’t stop, keep going, I also skip a lot of politics

I want some little conversation with MD, and to know what they are doing just now. I am sick of politics.

🫂

Arbuthnot asked how he came not to secure a majority. He could answer nothing but that he could not help it, if people would lie and forswear. A poor answer for a great Minister. There fell from him a Scripture expression, that the hearts of kings are unsearchable. I told him it was what I feared, and was from him the worst news he could tell me. I begged him to know what he had to trust to

I was looking over this letter, and find I make many mistakes of leaving out words; so 'tis impossible to find my meaning, unless you be conjurers. I will take more care for the future, and read over every day just what I have written that day, which will take up no time to speak of.

I dined to-day with Sir Thomas Hanmer; his wife, the Duchess of Grafton, dined with us: she wears a great high head-dress, such as was in fashion fifteen years ago, and looks like a mad woman in it; yet she has great remains of beauty.

🤪still, a compliment

Patrick tells me my caps are wearing out. I know not how to get others. I want a necessary woman strangely. I am as helpless as an elephant.

🙃critical stuff!

It comes into my head, that, from the very time you first went to Ireland, I have been always plying you to walk and read. The young fellows here have begun a kind of fashion to walk, and many of them have got swingeing strong shoes on purpose; it has got as far as several young lords; if it hold, it would be a very good thing. Lady Lucy and I are fallen out; she rails at me, and I have left visiting her..

I live a very retired life, pay very few visits, and keep but very little company; I read no newspapers.

🫂

Here is a full and true account of Stella's new spelling:

Plaguely, Plaguily. Dineing, Dining. Straingers, Strangers. Chais, Chase. Waist, Wast. Houer, Hour. Immagin, Imagine. A bout, About. Intellegence, Intelligence. Merrit, Merit. Aboundance, Abundance. Secreet, Secret. Phamphlets, Pamphlets. Bussiness, Business.

There was your mistake. There was your error.  The error all women commit. Why can’t you women love us, faults and all? Why do you place us on monstrous pedestals?  We have all feet of clay, women as well as men; but when we men love women, we love them knowing their weaknesses, their follies, their imperfections, love them all the more, it may be, for that reason. 

mabel chiltern.
Gertrude, I wish you would speak to Tommy Trafford.

lady chiltern.
What has poor Mr. Trafford done this time?  Robert says he is the best secretary he has ever had.

mabel chiltern.
Well, Tommy has proposed to me again. Tommy really does nothing but propose to me. He proposed to me last night in the music-room, when I was quite unprotected, as there was an elaborate trio going on.