1 His virtues are not real to him.
2 It is so much more real than life.
3 He has not yet revealed his real name.
4 For there would be a real pleasure in watching it.
5 "I shall stay with the real Dorian," he said, sadly.
6 I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them real.
7 The real drawback to marriage is that it makes one unselfish.
8 But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins.
9 I should fancy that the real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford nothing but self-denial.
10 If these elements of beauty are real, the whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect.
11 Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain.
12 There were passions in him that would find their terrible outlet, dreams that would make the shadow of their evil real.
13 Yet, when her arms were flung round his neck, and her fingers strayed through his hair, he softened and kissed her with real affection.
14 I remembered what you had said to me on that wonderful evening when we first dined together, about the search for beauty being the real secret of life.
15 At least he declared he did, and insisted on shaking him by the hand and assuring him that he was proud to meet a man who had discovered a real genius and gone bankrupt over a poet.
16 But now and then a complex personality took the place and assumed the office of art, was indeed, in its way, a real work of art, life having its elaborate masterpieces, just as poetry has, or sculpture, or painting.
17 I fancy that the true explanation is this: It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style.
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