They intended no harm to the world, but so long as it attacked they must punish, they must stand wary, then hit with full strength, they must show that when two are gathered together majorities shall not triumph. 
 Oh, Maurice, Maurice, Maurice, I think I may have fallen in love. Forster's well-known lgbt novel, Maurice, has been on my to-read list for some time, and having gone through it, I come out feeling a bit superior. You see, I got my secondhand copy from a teacher at school, who told me with a wry smile, "the last student who tried to read that gave up after fifty pages. Said it was too boring." Although he was by no means trying to challenge me, I took it as such anyway, and dove in. Perhaps that's what drove me to finish the book.Maurice is not an easy read, simply because of the fact that it's slow. This book is just like Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye; on the surface it reads like a pointless novel following a man through his everyday life, very mundane and yawn-inducing. However, if you find yourself with a pen in hand, Maurice is magical. It comes to life. Reading it through the tinted glass of an annotator, the smallest things become meaningful, you're swept away by the author's command of language, and you are left feeling as if you belong to the forest; that is, wild and free and in love.There is a movie I love, written by and starring Josh Radnor, Called Liberal Arts. In this movie, there is a scene in which Radnor's character Jesse is walking through the city, listening to Wagner's Tannhauser Overture, when he suddenly has a realization that he has fingers and hands and feet and flesh, and so does every other human being walking through the area. It gives you chills to see, and this sort of philosophical enlightenment can be seen in the last ten or so pages of Forster's novel. Yes, the book is slow, and the writing style quite different from much of today's literature, but Maurice is a breathtaking coming-of-age story in which a young homosexual man discovers himself.