Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde is a 1997 play written by Moisés Kaufman. It deals with Oscar Wilde's three trials on the matter of his relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas, which led to charges of "committing acts of gross indecency with other male persons". (The first trial was a civil suit brought against Douglas's father by Wilde himself; the second and third were on the criminal charges against Wilde, with the second reaching no verdict and the third resulting in a conviction and sentence to hard labour.) The play uses real quotes and transcripts of the three trials.
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Famous quotes containing the words oscar wilde, gross, trials, oscar and/or wilde:
“That is what the highest criticism really is, the record of one’s own soul. It is more fascinating than history, as it is concerned simply with oneself. It is more delightful than philosophy, as its subject is concrete and not abstract, real and not vague. It is the only civilised form of autobiography.”
—Oscar Wilde (1854–1900)
“There are moods in which one feels the impulse to enter a tacit protest against too gross an appetite for pure aesthetics in this starving and sinning world. One turns half away, musingly, from certain beautiful useless things.”
—Henry James (1843–1916)
“Misfortune is never mournful to the soul that accepts it; for such do always see that every cloud is an angel’s face. Every man deems that he has precisely the trials and temptations which are the hardest of all others for him to bear; but they are so, simply because they are the very ones he most needs.”
—Lydia M. Child (1802–1880)
“It is not always possible to predict the response of a doting Jewish mother. Witness the occasion on which the late piano virtuoso Oscar Levant telephoned his mother with some important news. He had proposed to his beloved and been accepted. Replied Mother Levant: “Good, Oscar, I’m happy to hear it. But did you practice today?””
—Liz Smith (20th century)
“The vilest deeds like poison weeds,
Bloom well in prison-air;
It is only what is good in Man
That wastes and withers there:
Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,
And the Warder is Despair.”
—Oscar Wilde (1854–1900)