Best 12 quotes of John Rechy on MyQuotes

John Rechy

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    John Rechy

    Gay men should not adopt the sophomoric model of heterosexual dating; gay men should always have sex first.

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    John Rechy

    I'm Mexican-American, but for a long time I was pushed out of any references to Mexican-American writers. It was easier to come out as a gay man than it was to come out as a Mexican-American.

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    John Rechy

    Just the absence of loneliness. That's love enough.

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    John Rechy

    Writing is hustling of another kind.

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    John Rechy

    During the Mardi Gras carnival in New Orleans, drunk and drugged and sleepless for sex-driven nights and days, I saw leering clowns on gaudy floats tossing cheap necklaces to grasping hands that clutched and grabbed and tore them, spilling beads; and revelers crawled on littered streets, wrestling for them, bleeding for them on sidewalks; and beads fell on spattered blood like dirty tears—and I saw costumed revelers turn into angels, angels into demons, demons into clowning angels; and in a flashing moment the night split open into a deeper, darker chasm out of which soared demonic clowning angels laughing.

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    John Rechy

    How erotic Texas must be!” she said. I was sure she had meant “exotic,” but I followed through: “Maybe, if you find cactus and deserts erotic, sensual.

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    John Rechy

    I suppose you could say that Paul is a … hustler? His rich wife Corina paid him grandly when they divorced, wouldn’t you say?” “That’s called alimony,” I laughed.

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    John Rechy

    I think the camouflage of fiction allows more authenticity – you know, acknowledging that it is a ‘fiction’, a terrific lie, and that you want it to be believed.

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    John Rechy

    It's that magnificent interlude in New York between winter and spring, when you feel the warmth stirring, and you remember that the dreadful naked trees will inevitably sprout tiny green buds, soon. Everyone rushes into the parks, the streets--and you even forget that, very soon , summer will come scorchingly, dropping from the sky like a blanket of steam...

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    John Rechy

    It was never about the money; at times no money was involved, just sex.” “Then what?” “It was always about—” I had never asked that question of myself. “It was always about—” No word came, no answer. “Power.

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    John Rechy

    Love can fuck up desire, I’ll agree to that,” I said, and I believed that. If, on the occasions when someone I had sex with remained after orgasm, and an edge of friendship was being suggested to me—as, say, we might lie, though rarely, talking—if, then, at those times, all desire faded.

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    John Rechy

    Southern California, which is shaped somewhat like a coffin, is a giant sanatorium with flowers where people come to be cured of life itself in whatever way .... This is the last stop before the sun gives up and sinks into the black, black ocean, and night - usually starless here - comes down.