Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Philosophies fall away like sand, and creeds follow one another like the withered leaves of autumn; but what is beautiful is a joy for all seasons and a possession for all eternity.
Source:The English Renaissance of Art (January 9, 1882); in Complete Works of Oscar Wilde (ed. Wyman-Fogg Co., 1921), Volume 10, Page 268
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