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“Men appeared to go along with this idea but it was noticeable that, whenever pansies were in bloom, they couldn't resist doing a little window shopping. They must never admit to themselves or to God or to one another that they even liked the company of homosexuals—let alone that 'trade' with them was a pleasurable pastime. Any attention that they paid to us had to be put in the form of an infliction. Such gestures as running their fingers through our hair were accompanied by insults about what a bloody awful mop it was. If they wished to make any more definitely sexual advances, these must be ruthlessly stripped of any quality of indulgence. I have known at least one heterosexual man who told me that, to be really satisfactory, all sexual intercourse must preserve the illusion of rape, so I was never able to decide how much of the inordinate interest taken in me by the Clerkenwell boys was due to sexual curiosity and how much was what it seemed—hatred.” — Quentin Crisp