| Quote #4
A strange sense of loss came over him. He felt that Dorian Gray would never again be to him all that he had been in the past. Life had come between them.... His eyes darkened, and the crowded flaring streets became blurred to his eyes. When the cab drew up at the theatre, it seemed to him that he had grown years older. (6.10)
Basil recognizes the changes that have come over Dorian before things even really start happening. He's incredibly sensitive to any difference in the object of his idolatry.
| Quote #5
Suddenly there flashed across his mind what he had said in Basil Hallward's studio the day the picture had been finished. Yes, he remembered it perfectly. He had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain young, and the portrait grow old; that his own beauty might be untarnished, and the face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins; that the painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering and thought, and that he might keep all the delicate bloom and loveliness of his then just conscious boyhood. Surely his wish had not been fulfilled? Such things were impossible. It seemed monstrous even to think of them. And, yet, there was the picture before him, with the touch of cruelty in the mouth. (7.29)
Dorian's moral transformation begins to demonstrate itself in the portrait for the first time here. At this early stage, it acts as a kind of conscience for him, and he realizes that he has terribly wronged Sibyl.
| Quote #6
As he often remembered afterwards, and always with no small wonder, he found himself at first gazing at the portrait with a feeling of almost scientific interest. That such a change should have taken place was incredible to him. And yet it was a fact. Was there some subtle affinity between the chemical atoms that shaped themselves into form and colour on the canvas and the soul that was within him? Could it be that what that soul thought, they realized? -- that what it dreamed, they made true? Or was there some other, more terrible reason? He shuddered, and felt afraid, and, going back to the couch, lay there, gazing at the picture in sickened horror.
The transformation evident here isn't just in Dorian's portrait – it's in his attitude. Already, he's adopted the pseudo-scientific coldness of Lord Henry, even while pondering this mystery of his own corruption. We have to wonder if it's already too late for Dorian, even at this early stage.