Best 581 quotes in «lgbt quotes» category

Our sexuality is body, culture, age, learning, habit, fantasies, worries, passions, and the relationships in which all these elements combine. That’s why sexuality can change with age, partner, experience, emotions, and sense of perspective.

People think that LGBTs adopting children will hurt them, but it's not being in loving homes that hurts children most.

People were so often mean that when they weren’t, there was a tendency to bestow sainthood upon them. Aster did not reward common decency with her affection.

Perhaps her parents are still with her, even after all these years. Carving a celestial path for her which she follows blindly. Whispering encouragement in her ears and reminding her why she chose the life she now leads. Avenge us.

Persecution complexes are reaffirming to those who benefit from unearned privileges.

Please your mother: just lie around upstairs and smoke some pot. Be a revolutionary.

Prejudice is learned. What will you teach others through your actions and words?

Prejudice plunges you into a world of fear and hate. That's no way to live.

Privilege doesn't just insulate people from the consequences of their prejudice, it cuts them off from their humanity.

Quando vide che era andata via, scoppiò in un pianto disperato. «Piangi Mary, fallo anche per me. Ormai non ho più lacrime per lei» disse Paola, stringendola forte per aggrapparsi a lei. "lo non sono pronta a vederti andar via" disse poi, rivolgendosi a Laura in un dialogo silenzioso "Perciò voglio pensare che arriverai al ncello e accorgendoti di aver dimenticato qualcosa tornerai indietro. Troverai la mia porta chiusa e deciderai di non bussare. Ed io, per tutto il tempo in cui non ci sarai, ti immaginerò lì fuori ad attendermi. Solo in questo modo riuscirò a sopportare la tua assenza

Privilege is when you can afford to sit back and watch as others' rights are trampled upon.

Privilege is when you contribute to the oppression of others and then claim that you are the one being discriminated against.

Pride is not an LGBT celebration, it's a human rights celebration - it's a celebration of equality - it's a celebration of inclusion - it's a celebration of acceptance.

Queerness is as much about friendship as it is about sex.

—¿Quieres seguir? —quiso asegurarse. —Un poco. Sonrió al escucharla. «Un poco». Con un poco iba a tener mucho.

Remember that you don't owe anyone an apology. You are who you are, you have no choice, and that is beautiful.

Reducing a group to a slur or stereotype reduces us all.

Right now, many female activists in their forties, fifties, sixties, seventies, and eighties are gazing thoughtfully into the glowing embers of lesbian culture. For us, this is still an active campfire where we gather and warm ourselves; one which, we hope, will not fade away into forgotten ash, but instead retain hot coals to stoke new fires. Such images of heat and spark have always served to symbolize shifts in leadership; think of that other fire-based metaphor, the passing of the torch - presumably, to a next generation. What does it mean if that next generation is disdainful of the torch, welcomes its dousing, or lacks the data or the will to learn how it was lit and carried forward in the first place?

Samir loves Joe’s face. He studies it every day in class: a face as old as his own but already, in eighteen years, the cliffs and hills and odd proportions of its geography have been shaped by life’s weather. Samir likes to observe the ever-watchful green eyes, hidden in their shadowy alcoves over the at nose and cheekbones, and the heavy brow that scrunches up with Joe’s moods – all those sculptural planes could have been carved by Easter Islanders. en there’s the pout of his lips, the pucker of their concentration or the twist of their anger. But most of all, Samir examines the thoughts as they cross the wide-open landscape of the face. Tries hard to read their cloud shapes from the merest shadow.

Same-sex marriage has not created problems for religious institutions; religious institutions have created problems for same-sex marriage.

Saying something is 'politically correct' is often a way of dismissing the voices of the oppressed.

Say: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

She's always scorned his squeamishness, citing the replacement of his vagina with a dick. Joon thinks that's invasion of a far more nail-biting nature. She has no idea. It was fucking heaven. He'd do it again a million times over. And it's one hell of a long way from chopping open your head for the sake of more tech.

«Shawn non vede le cose che ho, vede le cose che sono,» riassunse Trevor. E per la prima volta, ascoltando la sua stessa voce, capì cosa doveva avere innescato in lui quell'amore. «Non sa che macchina possiedo, quale tipo di orologio, non gli interessa se indosso abiti firmati. Nemmeno me le chiede, ed è buffo perché mi viene in mente adesso che lo dico a voi. In questi mesi abbiamo parlato di tante cose, ma mai una volta di quelle materiali. Io provo qualcosa per lui. Qualcosa in confronto alla quale Jude e chiunque ci sia stato prima non erano che capricci.» (Trevor)

She had seen just now what she had only sensed before, that the whole world was ready to be their enemy, and suddenly what she and Carol had together seemed no longer love or anything happy but a monster between them, with each of them caught in a fist.

She kissed me on the cheek, and my mom sang Theresa’s name from the open front door. She loves Theresa. I think she loves me more when I’m with her.

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

She thought of people she had seen holding hands in movies, and why shouldn't she and Carol?

She was sad and lost and alone in the dark," Cecil said. "She needed somebody to hold her." "And you think she's going to get tired of that?" "You did," Cecil said. "You shut me right out." "It was your decision, not mine," Dave said. "You are the dearest thing in life to me. You're bright and funny and gentle and decent and full of life. And I will never get tired of you, and neither will Chrissie. It's not up to her anyway. You're the adult. Tell her the truth -- that it was an act of kindness that got out of hand." "I can't hurt her like that," Cecil said. "It will hurt more the longer you let it go on.

She had traveled to more cities, had experienced more scenes, than anyone she knew, and still she had come away from it all with only an abysmal sense of dissatisfaction. When would it all begin, the good part of this story she was living? When would she find her destiny, her purpose? When would she have the control her mother wielded, the drive her father possessed? When would she cease living the same wretched days over and over? Why was she still feeling empty and meaningless? Why—after all this time—did her purpose in life still escape her?

So, consider this. Today he’s sober, no traces of chemicals caught in his bloodstream, no bullet-blown high patching synthetic samples over the melody of his mind. Does that make this real or a side-effect of the comedown? Falling in love feels no-parachute sorts of terrifying, the ground rushing up too hard and too fast. If love is intangible, hypothetical, subjective and experienced on a uniquely individual basis, how can Jaxon ever truly know if that’s the way he’s feeling? But then, realistically, how can he know that it’s not?

So damn pigheaded. I’ve studied you, not to report you, Caspar, but because I want a relationship with you.

Shock? More like shellshock at this point. Blondie knew I was gay, yet he was a Company Exec or else he wouldn’t be here. I was his butt boy in the worst possible way. When I squinted at him, he gave nothing up. Neither did I. I had shit on this newly minted man too. Double fucking jeopardy, jackass.

Soit vous êtes homophobes, soit vous êtes humains - être à la fois humain et homophobe est incompatible.

Some things are more important than a rock show and this fight against prejudice and bigotry — which is happening as I write — is one of them. It is the strongest means I have for raising my voice in opposition to those who continue to push us backwards instead of forwards.

Something about her reached me on a deeper level than I had ever experienced and it was frightening. It was exciting. It was dangerous.

Sometimes I still feel that there are two of me: one clean, flawless picture, the other imperfect and cracked; one boy, one girl; one voice that speaks aloud and one that whispers in my ear; one publicly known to have been troubled but be on the mend, the other who has privately lost something to do with innocence and gained something to do with knowledge and adulthood that can never be undone. I feel sometimes there are things that tear me in two directions, that there are two sets of thoughts that grow side by side. But then I realize that I am whole, whatever that means and does not mean; I am complete without the need for additions or alteration.

Sometimes it feels like my queerness was always there but I was too shell-shocked and splintered by violence to see it. When I finally did? It saved me. Opening up to my queerness saved me. Once I began to identify as queer, I began to require this dreaming and commitment to change from my partners. I define myself to claim myself, to foster a curated community of support

Sometimes life takes unexpected turns. Sometimes we hide the very core of our existence because we fear the judgment of others. Sometimes the universe shifts and we are provided with a brief moment to begin anew. These moments allow us to become fearless and let our perfectly created souls shine.

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.

Syldor was not a land of oppressive rules, roles, and labels. Here, love and power were open to, for, and between all; woman or man, rich or poor. What mattered was the sharpness of your mind, the speed of your blade, and the heat of your touch.

So you want to fall in love? You probably will soon, and if you do, enjoy it, it’s harder later on.

Suck Cock Deep!

Take care, take care. This city thrives! It's money gives you wings to soar. But it is a yoke on your shoulders and you would do well to take note of the bruise around your neck.

Tam let out a ragged breath, as he fought to reign his emotions back, while the realisation sank in. He was nothing. To Konnor. To Giovanni. To everyone. He was invisible.

Tam let his hand drop to his neck and slowly circled his fingers around it. It was a free, gentle touch and Casen knew that if he asked him not to, he would remove his hand and nothing would change. He couldn't get the words out; it wasn't the touch he had a problem with, it was the far away look in Tam's eyes that said he wasn't in the room anymore. The look that suggested he was lying on the ground, as the rain fell in buckets and a stranger knelt over him, trying to keep him awake. Casen blinked and looked away, as the urge to cry for that lost look threatened.

Tam looked scared, swallowing and wrapping his hands around Casen's. He slowly cupped his wrists and pulled his hands away. Then he turned to the door and unlocked it. Casen expected to have it shut in his face or be told that he'd crossed a line. After all, he didn't know Tam and he'd stupidly given him an ultimatum after meeting just a few hours ago. What had he been thinking? “Are you coming in?” Tam asked quietly, staring at his hands as he twirled his key. Casen crossed the threshold and reminded himself he was lucky; he could so easily have been turned away. Yet, when he turned to apologise for presuming too much, Tam was right in front of him and the door was closed. Before he could ask what was running through his head, Tam cupped his face, lightly caressing his cheek. It was soft and tender, identical to the look in his eyes. It was too much; Casen closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, tentatively raising his own hand to hold Tam there. It wasn't a kiss, but it was damned close.

ten reasons to love being queer viii. the people within our community are so supportive and so caring and so loving, most of the time towards people they don’t even know and it is in moments like that when you realize that the queer community is more than a community we are a family

Terror doesn't change people from gay to straight. It just hurts innocent people.

Terms such as "man bun," "man purse," "guyliner," "meggings," and the new "romp-him" (romper) have entered the American lexicon. These terms refer to new fashion trends involving men wearing garments or using grooming regiments once thought of as exclusive to women. The term metrosexual comes to mind. While they may be amusing to read, and certainly to say out loud, they are dangerous roadblocks preventing the collapse of the binary. That notion might also make you laugh. Think about it. What purpose do these unnecessary labels serve, other than to single out that these stylistic choices go against the grain? Eyeliner is applied to people's eyelids. Leggings are worn by people who have legs. The gendered associations exist solely as social constructs. Men used to wear leggings all the time in the middle ages. Probably would have shopped at Sephora too, if there had been one at the faire.