Oscar Wilde

Excerpt from Oscar Wilde: The Story of an Unhappy Friendship

I was not by him in the poor room of the poor inn where he died. I had not the con solation of following to the nameless grave the lonely hearse which had no flowers on its pall.

But, as many hundreds of miles away, I read of his solitary death, and heard of the supreme abandonment of him by those to whom also he had always been good, I determined to say all the things that I knew of him, to tell people what he really was, so that my story might help a little to a better understanding of a man of rare heart and rarer genius.

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