LOST SOUL ASIDE LOOKS SICK UPDATE
LOST SOUL ASIDE LOOKS SICK WINDOWS

LOST SOUL ASIDE LOOKS SICK WINDOWS

Most of the windows were dark, but now and then fantastic shadows were silhouetted against some lamplit blind. The horse stumbled in a rut, then swerved aside and broke into a gallop.Īfter some time they left the clay road and rattled again over rough-paven streets. A dog barked as they went by, and far away in the darkness some wandering sea-gull screamed. The fog was lighter here, and he could see the strange, bottle-shaped kilns with their orange, fanlike tongues of fire. The monotony became unbearable, and as the mist thickened, he felt afraid. The way seemed interminable, and the streets like the black web of some sprawling spider. He laughed in answer, and the man was silent. He struck at the horse madly with his stick. His throat burned and his delicate hands twitched nervously together. The hideous hunger for opium began to gnaw at him. He thrust up the trap and called to the man to drive faster. On and on plodded the hansom, going slower, it seemed to him, at each step. Indeed, what right had Basil to have spoken to him as he had done? Who had made him a judge over others? He had said things that were dreadful, horrible, not to be endured. What could atone for that? Ah! for that there was no atonement but though forgiveness was impossible, forgetfulness was possible still, and he was determined to forget, to stamp the thing out, to crush it as one would crush the adder that had stung one. Was it true that the senses could cure it? Innocent blood had been spilled. “To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul!” How the words rang in his ears! His soul, certainly, was sick to death. The sidewindows of the hansom were clogged with a grey-flannel mist. A steam rose from the horse as it splashed up the puddles. Once the man lost his way and had to drive back half a mile. The gas-lamps grew fewer, and the streets more narrow and gloomy. From time to time a huge misshapen cloud stretched a long arm across and hid it. The moon hung low in the sky like a yellow skull. There were opium dens where one could buy oblivion, dens of horror where the memory of old sins could be destroyed by the madness of sins that were new. He had often tried it, and would try it again now. Lying back in the hansom, with his hat pulled over his forehead, Dorian Gray watched with listless eyes the sordid shame of the great city, and now and then he repeated to himself the words that Lord Henry had said to him on the first day they had met, “To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul.” Yes, that was the secret. In others, drunkards brawled and screamed. From some of the bars came the sound of horrible laughter. The public-houses were just closing, and dim men and women were clustering in broken groups round their doors.

LOST SOUL ASIDE LOOKS SICK UPDATE

You should visit Browse Happy and update your internet browser today!Ī cold rain began to fall, and the blurred street-lamps looked ghastly in the dripping mist. The embedded audio player requires a modern internet browser.

Lost soul aside looks sick