Oscar Wilde. The Picture Of Dorian Gray (№ 812)

Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. As soon as a person starts to think, he's disproportionately in the sky, the nose, or increasing the forehead, or something else spoils his face. Look at the successful men in any academic profession - they are ugly! The exception is, of course, our spiritual shepherds, but these don't bother his brain. The Bishop in eighty years, it continues to repeat what he was taught when he was a boy of eighteen, of course, that his face retains the beauty and comeliness. Judging by the portrait, your mysterious young friend, whose name you persistently do not want to be called charming, he never thinks. I'm quite sure of that. I guess he is brainless and beautiful the creation of God, which we ought always to have before him: in winter, when no flowers to please the eye, and in the summer to refresh my heated brain.