Lillie1978

Oscar Wilde:
"the love that dare not speak its name", in this century, is such a great affection of an elder for a younger man, as there was between David and Jonathan, such as Plato made the very basis of his philosophy. It is that deep affection that is as pure as it is perfect. It dictates and pervades great works of art, like those of Shakespeare and Michaelangelo, and those two letters of mine, such as they are. It is in this century misunderstood, and on account of it am I placed where I am now. It is beautiful. It is fine. It is the noblest form of affection. There is nothing unnatural about it. It is intellectual and it repeatedly exists between an elder and a younger man when the elder has intellect and the younger man all the joy, hope, and glamour of life before him. That it should be so the world does not understand. The world mocks at it and puts one in the pillory for it.