Poche idee, ma confuse.

oldloves:

“HM Prison, Reading
Dear Bosie,
After long and fruitless waiting I have determined to write to you myself, as much for your sake as for mine, as I would not like to think that I had passed through two long years of imprisonment without ever having received a single line from you, or any news or message even, except such as gave me pain…

… Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods, and chronicle their return. With us time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one centre of pain…

…The thing that you personally long ago forgotten,  or can easily forget, is happening to me now, and  will happen to me again tomorrow. Remember this, and you will be able to understand a little of why I am writing, and in this manner writing…” (.)

- From De Profundis, an epistle written by Oscar Wilde during his imprisonment in Reading Gaol, to Lord Alfred Douglas. Wilde was incarcerated on charges of “gross indecency” following a lawsuit with Lord Alfred’s father,  the Marquess of Queensberry