To-night, for the first time, I became conscious that the Romeo was hideous, and old, and painted, that the moonlight in the orchard was false, that the scenery was vulgar, and that the words I had to speak were unreal, were not my words, were not what I wanted to say. You had brought me something higher, something of which all art is but a reflection. You had made me understand what love really is. My love! My love! Prince Charming! Prince of life! I have grown sick of shadows. You are more to me than all art can ever be. What have I to do with the puppets of a play?
– Oscar Wilde
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Chapter 7. Sibyl’s rejection of her art as "false" and "unreal" theater brings us back to the final lines in the Preface: "All art is quite useless." Now that she has found love with her real-life Romeo and "Prince Charming," she no longer wants her useless art of "shadows" and "puppets." Dorian means more to her now than art could ever be.