Best 2888 quotes in «gay quotes» category

Hustling sex for cash ain’t dangerous if you learn the tricks quick, and that means puttin’ yourself in a different mindset. Always scout for an exit for when you need it. Act confident and tough and you won’t get hurt. Being scared or nervous will get you cut up and stuffed in a fuckin’ bag.

I always wondered why I didn't try to seduce you, since you're so good-looking, more appealing than any woman.

I am a Homosexual

I am jealous. I’m envious of the easy options all the rest of you enjoy. To date someone or not to date someone? Does she like him? Does he like her? You can try out whatever you like and change your minds at any time. Everyone is available to everyone else. Me? I might be permitted to admire someone from afar, to harbor a yearning in secret, but to act on it would cost me everything.

I am not here to entertain straight people.

I am usually able to tolerate all kinds of victims of indoctrination except those who have been infected with xenophobia, racism, or homophobia.

I belong to a culture that includes Proust, Henry James, Tchaikovsky, Cole Porter, Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Alexander the Great, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Christopher Marlowe, Walt Whitman, Herman Melville, Tennessee Williams, Byron, E.M. Forster, Lorca, Auden, Francis Bacon, James Baldwin, Harry Stack Sullivan, John Maynard Keynes, Dag Hammarskjold… These are not invisible men. Poor Bruce. Poor frightened Bruce. Once upon a time you wanted to be a soldier. Bruce, did you know that an openly gay Englishman was as responsible as any man for winning the Second World War? His name was Alan Turing and he cracked the Germans' Enigma code so the Allies knew in advance what the Nazis were going to do — and when the war was over he committed suicide he was so hounded for being gay. Why don't they teach any of this in the schools? If they did, maybe he wouldn't have killed himself and maybe you wouldn't be so terrified of who you are. The only way we'll have real pride is when we demand recognition of a culture that isn't just sexual. It's all there—all through history we've been there; but we have to claim it, and identify who was in it, and articulate what's in our minds and hearts and all our creative contributions to this earth. And until we do that, and until we organize ourselves block by neighborhood by city by state into a united visible community that fights back, we're doomed. That's how I want to be defined: as one of the men who fought the war.

I can understand where he's coming from... I too was once secretly in love with you, and I could do nothing but watch from afar. Being close to you while pretending that we're nothing more than friends. The first time I touched you with sexual intention, it was like an electrical current flowing through my fingertips and it paralyzed me. I wanted to make your senses go numb with pleasure. Not only physical pleasure, but desire too, deep inside.

I couldn't earn my way into heaven any more than I could earn my way out of being gay.

I consider you mine, because Donna considered you hers.

I couldn’t help wondering if she was gay. She was doing a good imitation of flirting, but perhaps it was just a ploy to keep me docile.

I confidently walked up to the counter, and his friends moved to the side to let me through. I handed him the note. "Happy Birthday," I said. Then I smiled and walked out of the store. I did my crossing-the street trick again, lurking in the shadows and watching. I could see him turn the note over in his hand, open it and read, then turn it over again. He passed it to his friends, who passed it between them. Then I watched him make a shrugging gesture with his hands. And then they were all laughing again. My mortification was total and overpowering. I was suddenly having a very difficult time standing. I had experienced a perfect note of utter and true clarity. He was straight.

If all people were to be judged by 'right and wrong', nobody would be wholly right or wholly wrong - for have not all people 'sinned and fallen from the glory of God'? It seems more than a little unfair that some folks with at least as much 'sin' themselves as any gay or trans person, like to jump up and down and point fingers at other people.

I don't know any homophobic people. That suggests fear. The people I know who hate gay folks are: illiterate, nescient, uneducated, uninstructed, unlearned, unschooled, untaught, backward, benighted, primitive, unenlightened, blockheaded, dense, doltish, hebetudinous, obtuse, stupid, thickheaded, thick-witted But not homophobic.

I fail to see how somebody can hate me for 'what I do' and what I am without actually hating me as a person. That makes about as much sense as throwing the baby out with the bathwater - or gay man out the church door with his homosexuality.

If God made gay people, then did God not intend them to be gay? Did the Potter's hand slip?

If it makes God so freaking mad, why does it feel so good?

If he could do one thing, he could run. He had spent his life running, secrets spitting at his back.

If I was gay, I wouldn't need an asterisk beside my name. I could stop worrying if the girl I like will bounce when she finds out I also like dick. I could have a coming-out party without people thinking I just want attention. I wouldn't have to explain that I fall in love with minds, not genders or body parts. People wouldn't say I'm 'just a slut' or 'faking it' or 'undecided' or 'confused.' I'm not confused. I don't categorize people by who I'm allowed to like and who I'm allowed to love. Love doesn't fit into boxes like that. It's blurry, slippery, quantum. It's only limited by our perceptions and before we slap a label on it and cram it into some category, everything is possible.

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.

If she understood the difference between referring to me as "the gay guy" and using my name, the knowledge was lost between her vapid gaze and her single AAA-battery brain.

If there’s one thing you learn from me, after hearing about just under one year of my life can it be that you should do whatever makes you happy. People can bring you down, people can bully you, can cheat on you but if you are doing whatever makes you happy they’ll never break you. Like you saw Jacob cried but he went back fighting, no way was he going to drop out that course, it was what he wanted to do in his life and Noah was as happy as always when he told us about Stephen, because he knew although that hurt him he was about to go onto bigger and better things. Oh and never let people hold you back, ever. Mason wouldn’t be going to university this September if he had and he wouldn’t be doing what makes him happy (see full circle). And most of all, always have the courage to stand up and say I am what I am, never apologize for who you are or who you love and always take a chance because you never know what could happen and although some people call it cliché, it’s okay to fall in love with your best friend because sometimes having your best friend as your lover is the best thing you could ask for. I promise. It’s also perfectly acceptable to dress up as a women on a weekly basis and singing popular songs as long as it makes you happy doing so.

I force myself to get up and lock my eyes on the painting, my birthday gift. It’s the essence of everything I want to remember about us. I pick it up and imagine the stars shimmering over us and the brisk air on our skin. The way the cold dissipated when we touched and nothing else mattered, how perfect it was.

If your organization is not formally committed to a policy of nondiscrimination based on sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression or gender presentation in its employment practices, you should not expect lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, gender-nonconforming, queer, and/or questioning patients and families to feel safe seeking out your services.

I glanced back to Yanni to see him smiling at us. "You two can stop being so cute now." "Well, Spencer can," Andrew deadpanned. "I, unfortunately, am cute all the time." I laughed. "It's true. He is.

I had a very clear vision, of Selina with her hair about her shoulders, a crimson hat upon her head, a velvet coat, ice-skates - I must have been remembering some picture. I imagined myself beside her, the air coming sharply into our mouths. I imagined how it would be if I took her, not to Italy, but only to Marishes, to my sister's house; if I sat with her at supper, and shared her room, and kissed her - I cannot say what would frighten them most - her being a spirit-medium, or a convict, or a girl.

I had loved and lost, and now... Love had found me again, brought me back to life in the land of the dead.

If erotic writing is the objectification of sex, then reading is its subjectification.

If today is your past come tomorrow, then make your past your future of today.

If you put enough closets together, you have enough space for a room. If you put enough rooms together, you have enough room for a house. If you put enough houses together, you have space for a town, then a city, then a nation, then a world.

If you put enough closets together, you have enough space for a room. If you put enough rooms together, you have enough space for a house. If you put enough houses together, you have space for a town, then a city, then a nation, then a world.

I have a question for you, but it’s kind of...um, personal.” “Yes, I’m gay.” “You really are a fan of saying that, aren’t you?” “Once you start, you just can’t stop.

I have laughter and amazement, not search results. I have unexpected longings, not hierarchical ratings.

I hope I helped you see the world a little bit different, Park. Even just a little bit.

I know this is what God made me … He wanted me to be a gay man so he could have this experience with me. In my spirit, in my soul…this is why he made me…so that he could experience it with me from the clay, to the sparkling dust of spirit that is also me, flowing into heaven.

If you're a boy, any display of sensitivity is gay. Compassion is gay. Crying is supergay. Reading is usually gay. Certain songs and types of music are gay. 'Enola Gay' would certainly be thought gay. Love songs are gay. Love itself is incredibly gay, as are any other heartfelt emotions. Singing is gay, but chanting is not gay. Wanking contests are not gay. Neither is all-male cuddling during specially designated periods in football matches, or communal bathing thereafter. (I didn't invent the rules of gay - I'm just telling you what they are.)

I laughed, "I don’t have a CHANCE IN HELL of ever turning COLE DRIVER GAY. He's straighter than NEIL PATRICK HARRIS.

I'll always remember being called by my mother who beckoned me to look at the screen where a young man was being tortured by the church. Bag over his head, rolling on the ground, crying, suffocating, vomiting while the congression continues yelling chants, “God will save you!” treating him like the devil's child. It was the first time I’ve ever doubted God. First time I’ve ever heard the terms ‘Gays, and ‘Queers.’ I went through a lot in my childhood, but this was the first I’ve ever been so traumatized. My mom tells me they deserved it and the church tries to justify their actions as if it was the most intelligent excuse in the world. At 12 years old, I knew only one thing. I would never be like them.

Imagine a pleasure in which the moment of satisfaction is simultaneous with the moment of destruction: to kiss is to poison; lifting to your lips this face after which you have ached, dreamed, longed for, the face shatters, every time.

I’m not leaving him, Sam! And I’m not waiting for the others to help.

I haunted and interrogated the past even as it interrogated me. London, Skinner's Lane, Brook Street, the Sudan - how had we passed all that time? Why did we not burn up every moment of it, as we would if we could have it all again? The journey back to England surfaced in dreams and occupied my days, the train to Wadi Halfa panting across the desert, reading old newspapers in the white, shuttered carriages while Taha, alas, was obliged to travel with the guard; and the stops, which had no names, but only a number, painted on a little shelter beside the track; and the steamer to the first Cateract and the visionary beauty of Aswan.

I mean, if I’m going to go to all the trouble of being gay and everything, I might as well tell people.

I’m in mid-passage, darling,” he said, beginning to talk like a queen so as to demystify himself, so as to destroy the very qualities John Schaeffer had fallen in love with, “I’m menopausal, change of life, hot flashes, you know. Wondering how much longer I can go without hair transplants and whether Germaine Monteil really works on the crow’s feet. I’ve had it, I’ve been through the mill, I’m a jaded queen. But you, dear, you have that gift whose loss the rest of life is just a funeral for—why else do you suppose those gray-haired gentlemen,” he said, nodding at his friends on the floor, “make money, buy houses, take trips around the world? Why else do they dwindle into a little circle of close friends, a farm upstate, and become in the end mere businessmen, shop-owners, decorators who like their homes filled with flowers and their friends flying in on Air France and someone pretty like you at the dinner table? It is all, my dear, because they are no longer young. Because they no longer live in that magic world that is yours for ten more years. Adolescence in America ends at thirty.

I'm keeping my promise, I'm coming home. To her.

In ancient Greece, adolescence was a time when young men left their biological families to become the lovers of adult men. Sexuality was but one element of an affectional and educational relationship in which youths learned the ways of manhood

Indifference is the greatest aphrodisiac.

In general there should be gay characters in YA because a) surprise, there are gay folks everywhere and b) in my opinion as a father, there’s not a damn thing wrong with my child encountering gay folks in her literature, because see point a).

In my life, I have been told that as a gay man I am a threat to the American family. I have been told that to accept me as an equal is an insult to God. I have been told that I am no better than a pedophile. I have been told that I cannot serve in the military because my presence will undermine unit cohesion. I have had bottles thrown at me when I gathered with others to protest for marriage equality. I have been told that I am sick, that I am damaged, and that I am damage and sickness incarnate. Let the record show that what finally made me snap is the suggestion that I was supposed to have chemistry with Tori Spelling.

In the 70's, there was a profound fear of being gay, to be sure, but with the burgeoning understanding of sexism and misogyny, it became harder to understand why one would want to "sleep with the enemy," either. For some, lesbian love was a pragmatic route to fairness. (The sex and foot massages were just a bonus.)

In the morning, as we're enjoying a shower together, Cash asks Mikey how long he's been working here. "Since I was fourteen." "How OLD are you now?" "Eighteen." "Nice. Are there any other hot guys working here besides you?" "I'm not a prostitute. I'm a ranch hand." "Sorry- I didn't mean-" "It's okay." As they kiss and make up, I inform Cash that I was Mikey's first. "Really?" Cash laughed. "You were?" "Yeah-" Mikey answered. "He was." "I was his birthday present last month..." Cash laughed, "How much did that set you back-?