To become the spectator of one’s own life, as Harry says, is to escape the suffering of life… I am different, but you must not like me less. I am changed, but you must always be my friend.
Dorian repeats Henry’s credo about detachment—be spectator, feel less pain. The line is chilling because it’s so calm; he wants friendship without accountability. Wilde threads irony through the plea: he is changed, and that is exactly the problem. “Spectator” sounds elegant but means numb; the portrait will bear the feeling he refuses. The request to be liked “not less” weaponizes charm as a shield against truth. Many of us recognize the dodge: asking for unconditional acceptance while staying conditional toward others. It’s a turning-key moment—etiquette over ethics.