All art is immoral.
All art is quite useless.
All thought is immoral.
All art is at once surface and symbol.
All imitation in morals and in life is wrong.
All beautiful things belong to the same age.
All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity is crime.
All charming people are spoiled. It is the secret of their attraction.
All influence is immoral—immoral from the scientific point of view.
All sympathy is fine, but sympathy with suffering is the least fine mode.
All women become like their mothers: that is their tragedy. No man does: that is his.
All bad art comes from returning to life and nature, and elevating them into ideals.
All men are monsters. The only thing to do is to feed the wretches well. A good cook does wonders.
All men are married women’s property. That is the only true definition of what married women’s property really is.
Various aphorisms of Oscar Wilde.
It is of the nature of idea to be communicated: written, spoken, done. The idea is like grass. It craves light, likes crowds, thrives on crossbreeding, grows better for being stepped on.
From Ursula K. Le Guin’s 1974 novel The Dispossessed.
Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson. 1948 Grosset & Dunlop hardback. The designer credit goes to Oscar Ogg, but the dark and often violent images (many in full color) are by Lynd Ward.
Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. A 1986 oversized hardback edition from dilithium Press. No designer credited, but he illustrations are by Milo Winter (from a 1915 edition, actually).
Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. A tiny little pocket hardback edition by Hamlyn Publishing/ Chancellor Press (1987). No designer credited, but the cover illustration is by Arthur Wakelin. There’s an inscription on the first page from my grandparents, who gave me the book in 1989.
Biblioklept 