Best 85 of Edmund White quotes - MyQuotes

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Edmund White
By Anonym 15 Sep

Edmund White

What is new about Barthes's posthumous reputation is the view of him as a writer whose books of criticism and personal musings must be admired as serious and beautiful works of the imagination.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

He looked out over the shirtless, muscled, tanned men and realised that right here, on this disco floor, there was such a concentration of fashion, slimming, money, bleaching, plastic surgery, psychotherapy – and all for naught. In a few years they’d all be old walruses, and in a few more, dead.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

I’ve always associated reading and writing with sex.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

All his leisure clothes were absurd - jokes, really - as though leisure itself had to be ridiculed.

By Anonym 20 Sep

Edmund White

Young people dislike and even fail to understand our slang; my gay students ask me what “tricking” means. It’s all old whore’s slang, of course.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Edmund White

Sex now seemed a strange thing to me, a social rite that registered, even brought about shifts in the balance of power, but something that was more discussed than performed, a simple emission of fluid that somehow generated religious, social and economic consequences.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

I saw literature as a fantasy, no less absorbing for all its irrelevance - a parallel life, as dreams shadow waking but never intersect it.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

He was a good boy and ‘projected’ goodness – which later would be the downfall of many a person.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

Had he already inspired a passion in some stranger’s heart?

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

Do we regard language as more public, more ceremonial, than thought? Just as family men condemn the profanity on the stage that they use constantly in conversation, in the same way we may look to written language as an idealization rather than a reflection of ourselves.

By Anonym 20 Sep

Edmund White

You’re universally liked because you’re such a black hole in space. You don’t have any real traits. You’re sympa, at least as much as a narcissist can be, but that means nothing. You’re beautiful and everybody projects onto you what they’re looking for, which is easy to do since you don’t stand for anything definite. You’re a black hole in space.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Edmund White

There was something stubborn in me that didn't want to lose weight to attract a man. If the right man came along, he'd be able to see my virtues magically. Once he kissed me, the frog would turn into a prince. I had become a trick question, a heavy disguise, but behind the disobliging exterior was the welcoming child I would always be. Of course, what I'd forgotten was that he was not Parsifal and I was not the Grail; the medievalism of my imagination was not sufficiently up-to-date to recognize that the lover was a shopper and I a product.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

Gay life is this object out there that’s waiting to be written about. A lot of people think we’ve exhausted all the themes of gay fiction, but we’ve just barely touched on them.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

If the baron is a masochist himself, then why would he attract another masochist? I suppose he wants someone cute to attract other sadists.

By Anonym 17 Sep

Edmund White

Older guys have too much emotional baggage. They’ve already lived their lives.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

Being up on something is a way of dismissing it. To espouse any point of view is a danger - it might leave us stuck with last year's cause. Prized for their novelty alone, ideas, gimmicks, trends become equivalent, interchangeable.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

Ive always seen writing as a way of telling the truth. For me, writing is about truth. I have always tried to be faithful to my own experience.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

He thought to himself, I’ll never be this perfect again, an idea that made him sad.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

As a young teenager I looked desperately for things to read that might excuse me or assure me I wasn't the only one, that might confirm an identity I was unhappily piecing together

By Anonym 15 Sep

Edmund White

As a Buddhist I was determined to root out all desires, including especially my “sick” desire for other boys and men. Only through ridding myself of all “hankerings” could I achieve nirvana and escape the endless cycle of rebirth. The odd thing is that the transmigration of the soul from one body (old and ailing) into another (a happy baby’s) didn’t sound so bad—in fact, it was what most Americans longed for.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Edmund White

Teenagers, flooded with destabilizing hormones and a longing for elsewhere, are particularly prone to the seductive power of dark narratives.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

Psychoanalysis feeds on intensity, as though life were all flame and no ash.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

Perhaps I became so vague, so exhilarated with vagueness, precisely in order to forestall a recognition of the final term of the syllogism that begins: If one man loves another he is a homosexual; I love a man.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

The almost Oriental politeness of the West Coast is one of its distinctive regional features, in marked contrast to the contentiousness of the East Coast.... So few human contacts in Los Angeles go unmediated by glass (either a TV screen or an automobile windshield), that the direct confrontation renders the participants docile, stunned, sweet.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Edmund White

The imagination is not the consolation people pretend. It can even be regarded as the admission of some sort of failure.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

The AIDS epidemic has rolled back a big rotting log and revealed all the squirming life underneath it, since it involves, all at once, the main themes of our existence: sex, death, power, money, love, hate, disease and panic. No American phenomenon has been so compelling since the Vietnam War.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

For most Northerners, Texas is the home of real men. The cowboys, the rednecks, the outspoken self-made right-wing millionaires strike us as either the best or worst examples of American manliness.... The ideal is not an illusion nor is it contemptible, no matter what damage it may have done. Many people who scorn it in conversation want to submit to it in bed. Those who believe machismo reeks of violence alone choose to forget it once stood for honor as well.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

In our imaginations the adults of our childhood remain extreme, essential - we might say radical since they are the roots that fed luxuriant later systems. Those first bohemians, for instance, stay operatic in memory even though were we to meet them today - well, what would we think, we who've elaborated our eccentricities with a patience, a professionalism they never knew?

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

Guy thought of the Greek word agon, wasn’t it at once an athletic contest and a style of suffering, an agony?

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

Paris... is a world meant for the walker alone, for only the pace of strolling can take in all the rich (if muted) detail.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

Hell is God's Absence.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

Guy suddenly wanted to scald his face, gain fifty pounds, shear his hair. He was sick of his beauty, his “eternal” beauty. People thought he was purer, more intelligent, kinder, nobler than he was because they ascribed all these virtues to him. What if he were stripped of his looks, if he stabbed the grotesque painting in the attic? If they saw him for what he really was – empty-headed, vicieux (how did you translate that? “Riddled with vices?”), narcisse? Used to being indulged and pursued, terrified he’d outlive his fatal appeal and yet longing to be free of it?

By Anonym 17 Sep

Edmund White

Nor did Kevin go, “Ew-w,” when he pulled his penis out and it was brown and smelly, and that, too, Guy considered a rite de passage.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

I didn't want to write a biographie romancee especially since I already write novels, nor did I want to challenge the rules of the biography game, arbitrary as those rules might be

By Anonym 20 Sep

Edmund White

You say that you don’t care about age and that you’re ready to push the wheelchair and hose down my bum, but how can you be sure?

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

I felt if I went chronologically, I'd get bogged down in childhood and that's part of our culture of complaint in America. This endless wailing about your childhood.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

Is that how you stay so fresh and young, drinking the sperm of teenage males?

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

Tennessee Williams recognized that great theater begins with great talkers, and that great talkers obey two rules: they never sound like anyone else and they never say anything directly.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

In the case of my book, I don't think it's really the coming-out gay novel that everyone really needed, even though it was received as such. The boy is too creepy, he betrays his teacher, the only adult man with whom he's enjoyed a sexual experience, etc.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Edmund White

If I take a less defensive tone, I'd admit that I couldn't write today a very jazzy, contemporary look at America as I did in 1979 in States of Desire.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Edmund White

Saint Guy of Anderlecht was the tenth-century Belgian saint of animals, stables, workhorses, and bachelors.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Edmund White

The most important things in our intimate lives can't be discussed with strangers, except in books.

By Anonym 17 Sep

Edmund White

Now, that’s what you call a vicious French queen. I never discussed your penis size – ” “Bet you did,” Kevin said, “at the beginning. I’ve heard the way gay guys talk at the gym. Nothing’s sacred. Not even my poor little penis.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

Guy believed everything in sex should be done slowly so as not to scare the wildlife and to ensure his own natural grace and poise.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

I was lucky to live in New York when it was dangerous and edgy and cheap enough to play host to young, penniless artists. That was the era of "coffee shops" as they were defined in New York—cheap restaurants open round the clock where you could eat for less than it would cost to cook at home. That was the era of ripped jeans and dirty T-shirts, when the kind of people who are impressed by material signs of success were not the people you wanted to know.

By Anonym 20 Sep

Edmund White

When history gives out, fiction takes over.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Edmund White

I think that there are empty ecological niches in the literary landscape crying to be filled and when a book more or less fills a niche it's seized on, even when it's a far from perfect fit...

By Anonym 18 Sep

Edmund White

That’s one of the problems—and joys—of old age: every time you read a book it’s the first.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Edmund White

Wasn’t it correct in America to call a man ‘handsome’ rather than ‘beautiful’?

By Anonym 16 Sep

Edmund White

A middle-aged man who’s probably down to jerking off every other day. A weary man of forty who’s already seen everything come around twice, who let me fuck him that once in a hole where whole armies of men have doubtless passed.