In the first place, to a blind man the colour of the cat and room are irrelevant. The cat's existence is, but the others are no obstacle to the blind man.
In the second place, Oscar Wilde was a Christian. He was a David Cameron style of Anglican, often flirted with the possibility of going across to Rome, and landed safe on Tiber's side on his death bed. But, as I say, he always had been a believer.
Stephen Fry once played Oscar Wilde. Mr Fry is an atheist. I suspect the atheists have confused the two. They do, after all, have one thing in common. You're going to make me say it aren't you? That's right. They both studied Latin at school.
Then there's just one other thing about this quotation. Apart from it's not as clever as it's supposed to be and it's by a believer, I'm not convinced it's by Wilde. I've done all the research on it (ie I've Googled it) and there's no proper citation. No book or play quoted anywhere, no context, no date or place or time. Brainyquote is not technically a guarantee of a quote's authenticity.
So they're quoting something on the authority of a pretty picture on a poster. Previously I've mentioned the poster about an "atheist cathedral" which is actually the library of a college dedicated to the Most Holy Trinity. I'm not sure why some atheists are so eager to accept things on authority with a lack of evidence just because they happen to agree with them. But I've got a theory. I reckon it's because they're gullible.
Here, have a real Wilde quotation. It's brilliant.
The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:Anyone lost a black cat? The blind man just brought it in. What a time to be delivering blinds. I was still in the bath.
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of year
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,
And sought in vain for any place of rest:
'Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.'
Quick Edit: Thanks to Doug and to Mike P on Facebook.
About 5 minutes in.... (though the whole thing is pretty good)