Best 213 of Lesbian quotes - MyQuotes
Conspicuous lesbians abounded—it's hard to miss teenage queers who have yet to figure out subtlety—and, though I can’t deny that I like my girls a little rough, most leaned so heavily on the dyke archetype that they looked like a Timberland truck crashed into Lilith Fair.
The less that women are visible as a research subject, the less we are likely to learn about lesbians.
but me you have forgotten or you love some man more than me
Do you want me to lick you again?
She sometimes talked about how liking girls is political and revolutionary and counter-cultural, all these names and terms that I didn’t even know that I was supposed to know, and a bunch of other things I didn’t really understand and I’m not sure that she did then, either—though she’d never have let on. I hadn’t ever really thought about any of that stuff. I just liked girls because I couldn’t help not to. I’d certainly never considered that someday my feelings might grant me access to a community of like-minded women.
Many a woman secretly has a crush on a man who secretly has a crush on her man.
Tell me you'll never lie to me again, and I'll go with you.
The comet fell limp in an unnamed river and killed nothing.
Homosexuality is immutable, irreversible and nonpathological.
Amber Rorman had told me too that our third grade teacher, Ms. Lizetti, was really a lesbian, which I thought was a disease until I asked Amber and Amber told me to ask her mother who told me to ask my mother, who said, “Lesbians are women who like to have sex with other women,” which I didn’t think was all that weird.
She noticed a large grease stain on the front of her coveralls as she stood up. A few half-hearted wipes told her it was a lost cause. That’s what she got for wearing her good coveralls for a teardown. What had possessed her to even do so? Brionie hadn’t noticed. It would take more than that to get her attention
You really are exotic, for boys in my country, they do not have such pectorals. I like yours.
I’m twenty-four, a first grade teacher, have a Yorkie named Pedro, a goldfish named Fish, have never had sex, or a serious boyfriend, and I’m the town lesbian who pukes when she sees a pussy. Nothing really to be jealous of at all.
Always respond with kindness, my love," she would say with a sympathetic smile. "Why would I? They're horrible." "Because otherwise, they've won." I knew she was right
Angel grabbed Jana by the waist, kissing her with gentle ease. They moved on to the bedroom and Angel pushed Jana to the bed as they kept kissing with passion. Their tongues intertwined together, feeling the mist of each other. Grinding their hips together and fondling each other's breasts with their clothes on, as each feeling the pace of their breaths together and they kept going in motion together. They both squirmed beneath each other. When Angel placed her hands outside of Jana's jeans, she felt the wetness soak through. Jana was repeating the act, as the both kept kissing in intensity. They rubbed each other in between the legs and both let out deep moans in between kisses. They tried not to holler each other's names into the air, as Angel felt Jana's wetness soak even more. That was when they both stopped and looked at one another in the eyes. "That was amazing," they said at the same time. They both giggled, and Angel rolled off of Jana with a sweet sigh as did Jana. Angel lifted up on her shoulder. "I know that wasn't actual sex,” she started. “But that was wonderful in so many ways. Jana, you are amazing in more ways than one." Jana smiled at Angel looking into her eyes.
What matters most is not 'what' you are, but 'who' you are.
You see, I have been content with the darkness. But then you came, with your fire. And you reminded me about the stars, shining in the dark, never wavering.
R. Ys Perez
I want to love like my grandmother, who loved a woman like Joseph loved Mary. Someone so imperfect, so human, brave enough to love someone who already knows God.
Natalie Clifford Barney
When she lowers her eyes she seems to hold all the beauty in the world between her eyelids; when she raises them I see only myself in her gaze.
The ability to engage the reader, to stir feelings deep within their being, is the ultimate goal of erotic fiction. When the reader takes the place of the characters in my story, I have succeeded
[Patricia Highsmith] was a figure of contradictions: a lesbian who didn't particularly like women; a writer of the most insightful psychological novels who, at times, appeared bored by people; a misanthrope with a gentle, sweet nature.
David Paul Kirkpatrick
The breeze carried the music into the distant country plains, past the bullet trains, across the majestic cornfields and the Christmas tree farms. The music swept past the Georgia orange trees, the droning honeybees, and the shining seas of the Atlantic. It wafted past the London Pier. Young Britney wanted all of Nod to hear.
If my God damns people for love but saves them for brutle warfare, then that is not the God I know or wish to worship.
Terror doesn't change people from gay to straight. It just hurts innocent people.
Why does it matter if people think you’re beautiful?” Kali insisted. Grabbing her girlfriend’s hands, she pressed a red-staining kiss to the pale knuckles. “I love you and we’re going to prom together and I think you’re gorgeous.
Rita Mae Brown
Oh great, you too. So now I wear this label 'Queer' emblazoned across my chest. Or I could always carve a scarlet 'L' on my forehead. Why does everyone have to put you in a box and nail the lid on it? I don't know what I am—polymorphous and perverse. Shit. I don't even know if I'm white. I'm me. That's all I am and all I want to be. Do I have to be something?
And she did not have to ask if this was right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect.
Some women who married and also had lesbian relationships were genuinely bisexual. Many others married because they could see no other viable choice in the day.
I'm assuming you didn't just call me to come out of the closet to a blind woman' 'Oh, it's something I do everyday,' Kate said, enjoying Faith's sense of humor. 'I open up a phone book, randomly select a name, dial it, and when they answer, I proclaim I'm a lesbian and then hang up.
If cheese was a woman, I'd marry her. I'd come home and eat her every night.
But you should know that about Dauntless- girl, guy, whatever, it doesn't matter here. What matters is what you've got in your gut.
Our categories are important. We cannot organize a social life, a political movement, or our individual identities and desires without them. The fact that categories invariably leak and can never contain all the relevant "existing things" does not render them useless, only limited. Categories like “woman,” “butch,” “lesbian,” or “transsexual” are all imperfect, historical, temporary, and arbitrary. We use them, and they use us. We use them to construct meaningful lives, and they mold us into historically specific forms of personhood. Instead of fighting for immaculate classifications and impenetrable boundaries, let us strive to maintain a community that understands diversity as a gift, sees anomalies as precious, and treats all basic principles with a hefty dose of skepticism.
you asked me if I believed in eternal love. Love is something way too abstract and indefinable. It depends on what we perceive and what we experience. If we don't exist, it doesn't exist. And we change so much; love must change as well.
Bethany Martin, another Hope College senior, put it like this: "If i could have equality and fulfillment with a woman, but I couldn't with a man - then why wouldn't I choose a woman?
When selecting a one-night stand, a heterosexual woman who is materialistic is a trillion times more likely to choose a sexually unattractive poor man who seems rich over a sexually attractive rich man who seems poor.
Hey ladies - I got hands. They are exquisite and highly trained from years of fingering and fisting. My hands can kick your new boyfriend's hands' ass. All I'm saying is go for something a lesbian can't give you, like testicles or musk or unwanted pregnancy. Don't be bragging about how your man cries or listens to you. You can get that with us.
We were in a state of suspended animation: Oblivious to the world around us, time seemingly standing still, and our perceptions focused only on a couple specific parts of our anatomy. In fact, only one part. My tongue seemed numb, but the feeling in my core was building in an incredible crescendo. Finally, my orgasm exploded. I heard myself scream, as if from another dimension. My head became light, and I thought I would pass out.
A woman in love with another woman is revolution’s revolution: it is not an act of war. it is not an act of desperation. it is not an act of fear. it is - it always has been and it always, always will be - an act of love.
Nim handed me a mug of tea. I took a sip and it was just how I like it, strong and sweet. If you added psychotic and emotionally unavailable to that, it would also cover my taste in women.
She broke my heart, so now I have to write about her forever. It made everything different. It's something that can only happen once.
We are having hot lesbian sex... and by sex we mean tea but it's still hot.
I bet I could have stayed in my office for an hour, and you'd still be sitting here, gagging for me. - Cassie
Michael Bassey Johnson
The game never changes, you must be in the secret before you are shown to the public.
Do you think, for a moment," she whispered, "that I would have done anything differently? That I could have chosen anything but this, now?" Her dark eyes were alive, bright, shining. "I would suffer any lie, Persephone, for you.
Does it go away?" she asks. "Missing each other?" I think about how much I missed Maman. I still do, though it isn´t as acute as it once was. "A little bit," I whisper. "Enough so that life continues. In a year you won´t even think about me. " She turns around in my arms and looks up at me, tugging at a strand of my hair. "don´t say stupid things, Sahar. You´re smarter than that.
I seek a woman, the woman of my desires. Who won’t be scared by loyalty and truth, nor turn away from the darkness of a soiled past. – Decades
...It had all happened in that instant she had seen Carol standing in the middle of the floor, watching her. Then the realization that so much had happened after that meeting made her feel incredibly lucky suddenly. It was so easy for a man and woman to find each other, to find someone who would do, but for her to have found Carol-
I'm keeping my promise, I'm coming home. To her.
Suicide. This is the exact opposite of last time, for this time I'm experiencing a kind of pleasure in life, in being alive, a pleasure in living that I've never experienced before, and I'm hopeful and confident that I can become someone with dignity. I know now why I couldn't change certain characteristics and certain things about myself, but it's not a problem anymore. Certain pathways I failed to open in the past have now opened. My whole self is radiating light. I see with clarity. I understand the cause and effect of the last year. What I had imagined I've now attained. It's as if I can see my life right in front of my eyes, and all I have to do is reach out and draw it in... Now I don't feel the acute pain I felt before; I feel enlightened, at peace. It's as if I've instantly found the secret of "Suffering", how to bear it and how to endure it... Yes, this time I've decided to kill myself not because I can't live with suffering and not because I don't enjoy being alive. I love life passionately, and my wish to die is a wish to live... Yes, I've chosen suicide. The endpoint of this process of "Forgiveness". Not to punish anyone or to protest a wrong. I've chosen suicide with a clarity I've never possessed before, with a rational resolve and sense of calm, in order to pursue the ultimate meaning of my life, act on my belief about the beauty between two people... I take complete responsibility for my life, and even if my physical body disappears upon death, I don't believe my spirit will disappear. As long as I have loved people fully, then I can be content fading into "Nothingness". If I'm using death to express my passion for life, then I still don't love her enough, don't love life enough. and I will reincarnate in a different form to love her and to be part of her life... So the death of my flesh really doesn't mean anything. Doesn't solve anything. Is this a tragedy? Will there be tragedy?
Homosexuals are not made, they are born.