Wilde isn't simply griping about ingratitude—he's describing the peculiar loneliness of moral action itself. When you do right by someone, you reveal their own failings by contrast, which breeds resentment rather than gratitude; you also bind yourself to them in ways they never asked for, creating an obligation that feels like a debt on both sides. A parent who sacrifices everything for a child's education often finds the child resents the very person who made their success possible, precisely *because* that sacrifice was so visible. The wit of Wilde's observation lies in recognizing that goodness doesn't fail to be rewarded—it's punished by the strange psychology of those who receive it.