Best 285 quotes in «lgbtq quotes» category

my blood runs pink (for my sexuality that is mine to embrace, not yours to strike with lightning bolts of change) and red (for the life i will continue to live, the life you cannot take away from me) and orange (for my siblings who heal me with their love and understanding, helping me piece myself back together after you tried to break me) and yellow (for the sunlight from within that still manages to shine in these dark times) and green (for existing in the natural, physical world when all you want is my disappearance) and blue (for the serenity we bring amidst the disturbances we face) and purple (for my spirit, which won’t be broken) (it can never be broken and you will never break us)

My last thought before falling asleep last night was a realisation that I was falling in love with Andrew. Well, not me exactly. My stupid, traitorous heart.

My parents had always been accepting of homosexuals and had supported their fight to be treated as equals, but it was different when it was your own son.

My brain is such a traitorous beast.

Nails that claw by a beautiful mind. A pretty face can leave you blind - Poem 'Small Pain' from 'The B Word: The B in LBGTQ Poetry'.

No person, no matter how important society deems their relationship to you, has the right to denounce you for who you are.

Now is not the time for bigots and racists. No time for sexists and homophobes. Now, more than ever, is the time for ARTISTS. It’s time for us to rise above and to create. To show humanity. To spread hope. We must prevent society from destroying itself, from losing its way. Now is the time for love.

Once he asked me what I thought had turned me gay." "I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider," said Simon.

One can learn from what is not said.

One of the best ways you can fight discrimination is by taking good care of yourself. Your survival is not just important; it's an act of revolution.

Not a boy or a girl, not any binary, rigid definition of a person. Just my everything.

Or his senior year, when he got drunk and made out with Liam in his twin bed for an hour, and he didn't have a sexual crisis about it - that had to mean he was straight, right? Because if he were into guys, it would have felt scary to be with one, but it wasn't.

People have the right to their opinions. But I also have the right to my family. No one in our country should be put in the situation where they grow up in fear because our society has decided some people are valued less than others.

Our family had waited so long for this moment and had spent so many years being told we were undeserving of this basic right. But for me there was a sense of validation because after eighteen years, I was finally able to stand with my two dads when they legally wed.

People talk about coming out as though it’s this big one-time event. But really, most people have to come out over and over to basically every new person they meet. I’m only eighteen and it already exhausts me.

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

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

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

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

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

Psychological and emotional wellness is an ongoing process for everyone.

Reading is an act of radical empathy: turning the page instead of turning away.

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

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

People are complicated. And messy. Seems too convenient that we’d all fit inside some multiple-choice question.

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.

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

Queer people have had to actively make their culture and community and institutions, because the non-queer world is not going to do it for us. And I love that, I love the idea that you have to create what you need, you know?

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

See, the institutions and specialist, experts, you see. Yes, yes, experts, indeed. See, they would have us believe that there is an order to art. An explanation. Humans are odd creatures in that way. Always searching for a formula. Yes, a formula to create an expected norm for unexplainable greatness. A cook book you might say. Yes, a recipe book for life, love, and art. However, my dear, let me tell you. Yes, there is no such thing. Every individual is unique in their own design, as intended by God himself. We classify, yes, always must we classify, for if not, then we would be lost, yes lost now wouldn't we? Classification, order, expectations, but alas, we forget. For what is art, if not the out word expression of an artist. It is the soul of the artisan and if his expectations are met, than who are we to judge whether his work be art or not?

So I never told you about my sexual orientation - it means we were never close friends. My body my business.

She had rosemary in her hair and stardust on her cheeks, and she was a mess of beautiful chaos, and Rhæna loved her more than life.

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

She said "sweet boy" again, as if making a diagnosis like tooth decay or flat feet. I was embarrassed. I didn't know if I was being insulted or complimented.

Sometimes the best way we can serve God is by honouring and taking care of that which has already been give to us. This, is my case, is my children.

Some people are born in the mountains, while others are born by the sea. Some people are happy to live in the place they were born, while others must make a journey to reach the climate in which they can flourish and grow. Between the ocean and the mountains is a wild forest. That is where I want to make my home.

Sure, I could tell you I am no longer a lesbian or that I am no longer attracted to women and am straight, or I could even tell you the moon is made of cheese. I could tell you many things, but the moon will still not be made of cheese, and I will still not be attracted to men.

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

That's the problem with memories: you can visit them but you can't live with them.

The best way I can describe [being transgender] for myself [...] is a constant feeling of homesickness. An unwavering ache in the pit of my stomach that only goes away when I can be seen and affirmed in the gender I've always felt myself to be. And unlike homesickness with location, which eventually diminishes as you get used to the new home, this homesickness only grows with time and separation.

The disaster, as Dad and others saw it, was the emerging AIDS crisis and the cultural attacks instigated by conservative against gay men and women in the early 1980s. It was found in the cruel indifference of President Ronald Reagan, who wouldn’t publicly address the epidemic until the end of his second term, after twenty thousand Americans had died, and the hostile rhetoric of conservatives close to Reagan like Jerry Falwell, founder of the Moral Majority, and Pat Buchanan, Reagan’s future speechwriter. In 1983, Buchanan wrote of AIDS, “The poor homosexuals–they have declared war upon nature, and now nature is extracting an awful retribution.

The eye of youth is very observant. Youth has its moments of keen intuition, even normal youth -- but the intuition of those who stand mi-way between the sexes is so ruthless, so poignant, so deadly, as to be in the nature of an added scourge...

The Midwife talked to herself now, rather than God, as she walked the road past the Big Bog, wondering if a child born female could truly live her whole life as a male. And if this were possible and offended no god, then perhaps the world had no order other than what was arbitrarily imposed by humans.

The people who claim that being transgender is a choice are right on one regard. Living freely as the person you were meant to be is, in fact, a choice. You can choose not to. The decision to transition reflect the time spent grappling with that difficult question: Are you going to give yourself a real chance to be happy?

The photo I had engraved on Mike’s stone makes me smile. I can only imagine what he’d say about the likes of me today: private investigator. He’d never believe it. Huge difference from when we worked the streets together.I can still hear his voice. “Here, Paul. Taste this.” When I concentrate hard enough, I can still taste that awful cooking of his. If there truly is life after death, I sure hope he’s a better cook now than he was back then. Funny the things you miss after someone you love is gone.

Some critics of trans people have told us that we shouldn’t feel this pain of being denied the legitimacy of our own selves; gender is, of course, just a social construct. I wonder if these people also tell widows not to bother grieving their husbands, because marriage is also just another social construct.

Substitute the word gay for straight and she's the exact same pain in the neck kid sister she was before she told us.

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?

Sundays normally were hell. Or just the church pat of it, actually. It wasn't that I was afraid of God, or had anything against Him. It was just that having to be there for two to four hours made me cross, hateful, and blasphemous. Plus it seemed to me that the regulars, the good God-fearing folks, who didn't have diddly-squat, liked to pretend they had a lot to flaunt -- whereas the ones that had a whole lot showed up on holidays and funerals, in fancy cars and dressed to kill, all made possible by money they didn't tithe away every week. That's where Sunday-based faith got you -- broke and with a sore butt!

…talking always feels like defending and I’m tired of asking for permission to exist.