"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, and such as you find in the sonnets of Michelangelo and
Shakespeare. It is that deep, spiritual affection that is as pure as it is perfect. It dictates and pervades great works of art like those of Shakespeare and Michelangelo, and those two letters of mine, such as they are. It is in this century misunderstood, so much misunderstood that it
may be described as the "Love that dare not speak its name," and on account of it I am 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
man has intellect, and the younger
man has 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 sometimes puts one in the pillory for it." = Oscar Wilde 1845-1900
