One fine day, as God walking through paradise as he thought: 'I welcome what I have created, but I think the world is not quite perfect.read the short story

Certain -houses, like certain persons, manage somehow to proclaim at once
their character for evil. In the case of the latter, no particular
feature need betray them; they may boast an open countenance and an
ingenuous smile; and yet a little of their company leaves the
unalterable conviction that there is something radically amiss with
their being: that they are evil.read the short story

The grey warm evening of August had descended upon the city and a mild warm air, a memory of summer, circulated in the streets. The streets, shuttered for the repose of Sunday, swarmed with a gaily coloured crowd.read the short story

High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the
Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine
gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby
glowed on his sword-hilt.

He was very much admired indeed. "He is as beautiful as a
weathercock," remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to
gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; "only not quite soread the short story