Must one have a heart of stone to read without laughing? (In life, practically no one ever gets to kill the thing he hates, much less loves.) And did not plumb for all time the shallows of the most reported love affair of the past hundred years, rivalling even that of Wallis and David, its every nuance (O Bosie!) known to all, while trembling rosy lips yet form, over and over again, those doom-laden syllables ? Oscar Wilde. Yet again. Why?
Gore Vidal