Best 205 quotes in «lesbian quotes» category

The knife will only hurt for a moment. Then your choice will be made, and it will all be over.

The less that women are visible as a research subject, the less we are likely to learn about lesbians.

The light was not broken, but in the darkness it had a different kind of radiance. If I seek it, I’ll find it.

Therese leaned closer toward it, looking down at her glass. She wanted to thrust the table aside and spring into her arms, to bury her nose in the green and gold scarf that was tied close about her neck. Once the backs of their hands brushed on the table, and Therese’s skin there felt separately alive now, and rather burning.

The power of love is that it sees all people.

[...] the rapport between two men or two women can be absolute and perfect, as it can never be between man and woman, and perhaps some people want just this, as others want that more shifting and uncertain thing that happens between men and women.

There comes a time in a girl’s life where she finds her heart broken, what matters is not the boy who broke it but the boy who stitches it back together

There are moment of sadness and moment of joy. This is life.

There is absolutely nothing special about being a man or being straight.

There was a gap of three metres between us at that point and it seemed as if neither of us dared to close it. I stared at her, she stared at me, and all of a sudden the world seemed too silent, too cold and too still for comfort.

There was no other love that could compare with the love of woman for woman.

There were about thirty of them, I think - all women; all seated at tables, bearing drinks and books and papers. You might have passed any one of them upon the street, and thought nothing; but the effect of their appearance all combined was rather queer. They were dressed, not strangely, but somehow distinctly. They wore skirts - but the kind of skirts a tailor might design if he were set, for a dare, to sew a bustle for a gent. Many seemed clad in walking-suits or riding-habits. Many wore pince-nez, or carried monocles on ribbons. There were one or two rather startling coiffures; and there were more neckties than I had ever seen brought together at any exclusively female ensemble.

The world is full of unrequited love,' I said finally. 'You and Patrick having problems?' Dad said, reaching around to get the butter out of the fridge. 'No, I was just wondering what you would say if I was a lesbian.' 'Come again?' said Lester. 'I'm having a hard time following this conversation.

The world could use more love. Why deny it to others?

The stars are the one thing that I miss about the earth. They're so constant, steady, bright. I've always loved the stars. You reminded me of them, Persephone," she added quietly.

To those who are gay, lesbian, bisexual,or transgender-let me say- you are not alone. You're struggle, for the end to violence and discrimination, is a shared struggle. Today, I stand with you. And I call upon all countries and people, to stand with you too. A historic shift is underway. We must tackle the violence, decriminalize consensual same sex relationships and end discrimination. We must educate the public. I call on this council and people of conscience to make this happen. The time has come.

They were Catholic, my lovers, All in an access of crossing themselves, Particularly their fingers Behind their suspendered backs-- And that was the women.

Too much beauty can be hard to bear.

To write, for a lesbian, is to learn to take down the patriarchal posters in her room. It means learning to live with bare walls for a while. It means learning how not to be afraid of the ghosts which assume the color of the bare wall.

We are having hot lesbian sex... and by sex we mean tea but it's still hot.

True same-sex love is trillions of times stronger than homophobia.

Was it love or wasn't it that she felt for Carol? And how absurd it was that she didn't even know. She had heard about girls falling in love, and she knew what kind of people they were and what they looked like. Neither she nor Carol looked like that. Yet the way she felt about Carol passed all the tests for love and fitted all the descriptions.

Trust was the sexual clincher for Dolores Alexander, the once-married early NOW member from chapter 3. "Once I had had sex with a woman," says Alexander "it was mind-blowing, it was so much better than with men. [My sexuality] just never became a question, I just stayed there. The issue was trust. I felt I could trust women so much more than I could ever trust a man. You are dealing on a truly peer level with women and you are not with men - or at least I wasn't.

We're queer, but music doesn't have a sexuality. Even if it was more clearly written to women, I still think that music is still just music.

Welcome back, my queen," she said, and dark eyes shining, Hades saved me.

We Lesbian Avengers have built this shrine. It stands for our fear. It stands for our grief. It stands for our rage. And it enshrines our intention to live fully and completely as who we are, wherever we are. We take the fire of action into our hearts. And we take it into our bodies. And we stand, here and now, to make it known that we are here, and here we will stay. Our fear does not consume us. Their fire will not consume us. We take that fire, and we make it our own.

Weight gains aren't failures – they're learning curves.

What does love mean if we would deny it to others?

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.

...we touched each other's center, perfectly, just the fingertip upon the clitoris moving more and more slowly, our eyes steady on each other and the delicate pressure fine and more fine until all motion stopped in one still point remembered always, a vision. And then I did not know her pleasure from mine, my body from hers. We fell into and became each other. Then we slipped over the edge, entered and made love.

When reason and passion battle, passion often wins.

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.

What matters most is not 'what' you are, but 'who' you are.

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.

When there was a choice between love of a woman and hate of a man, her mind could cherish only one emotion, for her love might be a subject for laughter, but no one ever had ever mocked her hatred.

When these flies were put together in all-male groups they formed long, moving chains resembling conga lines, with each male attempting (unsuccessfully) to mate with the male in front of it.

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.

While there is no shame in being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender or intersex - or even straight (but not narrow) - there is most certainly shame and dishonor in being a homophobe, a transphobe and a bigot.

You see, that’s the thing about a girl, Her kisses leave you breathless Her eyes become your world But it never seems to matter where she stops, lingers or starts She’ll sometimes revive it, sometimes break it, but she will always steal your heart

Woman-identification is a source of energy, a potential springhead of female power, violently curtailed and wasted under the institution of heterosexuality. The denial of reality and visibility to women’s passion for women, women’s choice of women as allies, life companions, and community; the forcing of such relationships into dissimulation and their disintegration under intense pressure, have meant an incalculable loss to the power of all women to change the social relations of the sexes to liberate ourselves and each other. The lie of compulsory female heterosexuality today admits not just feminist scholarship, but every profession, every reference work, every curriculum, every organizing attempt, every relationship or conversation over which it hovers. It creates, specifically, a profound falseness, hypocrisy, and hysteria in the heterosexual dialogue, for every heterosexual relationship is lived in the queasy strobe-light of that lie. However we choose to identify ourselves, however we find ourselves labeled, it flickers across and distorts our lives.

yet she could not resist sometimes yielding to the charm of a woman, not a girl, of a woman confessing, as to her they often did, some scrape, some folly. And whether it was pity, or their beauty, or that she was older, or some accident-like a faint scent, or a violin next door (so strange is the power of sounds at certain moments), she did undoubtedly then feel what men felt.

You can't have a vocation of No

You really are exotic, for boys in my country, they do not have such pectorals. I like yours.

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.

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.

You saved my life, Persephone." "I didn't..." "You are, even now.

[Adrienne Rich] was one of the only major intellectuals since Freud to assert that homosexuality was anything other than a problem. She is also notable for describing a continuum, like Kinesey's, of lesbian love - a continuum that begins with the intimacy of a mother nursing her daughter and ends with a nurturing, egalitarian love relationship between two women. While this theory eventually contributed to the stifling stereotype that lesbians only cuddle and nuzzle in bed, supporting each other and drinking chamomile tea, Rich was savvy to link same-sex love - so taboo, so unnatural - with a role for women seen as unassailable: being a mother.

A female magician named Catherine Trianon, who lived together 'as man and wife' with another cunning-woman, was described as having more learning 'in the tip of her finger' than others acquired in a lifetime. When her house was searched in 1680 twenty-five manuscript volumes on the occult sciences were found.

Acknowledging that my biological imperative may not include the drive to procreate, that I just might be attracted to XX chromosomes instead of XY? That's so stupid-minor in comparison to the fact that I might actually be in love for the first time in my life. It's with a girl...so what? Lesbian, bisexual, whatever! Thus isn't about categorisation or chromosomes. This is about how I feel about another person.

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