Mock Maurice

Heritage Gay Musings
True dat… 

True dat… 

(Source: hannahstearns, via themountainprep)

Minus the tattoo and with a different watch, this would be perfection… 

Minus the tattoo and with a different watch, this would be perfection… 

(Source: tstephenallen, via themountainprep)

Frayed Cotton Oxford blue… an essential. 

Frayed Cotton Oxford blue… an essential. 

(Source: kevc, via sixfiveeightam)

The fortnight at Venice passed quickly and sweetly—perhaps too sweetly; I was drowning in honey, stingless. - Evelyn Waugh

(Source: two-centsworth, via thewholetime)

(via theprepstory)

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 that 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 older and a younger man, when the older 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. - Wilde

Almost makes one want to go to the gym…

(Source: inspirinquotes, via josephuk)

(Source: booksactually)

Floored by Bill Clegg’s beauty… 

Floored by Bill Clegg’s beauty… 

(Source: street-gentlemen)

Things base and vile, folding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity: Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind. - Shakespeare