"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
