Oscar Wilde, during his trial in 1895, declared - ' The love that dare not speak its name ' in this
country, 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 will find in the sonnets of Michelangelo and
Shakespeare. It is
that deep, spiritual affection that is as pure as it is perfect... It is in this century 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, and it
repeatedly exists
between an elder and a younger man, when the elder 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.