I felt very close to God.... My friends say that's because I was always on my knees.
I know I can't tell you what it's like to be gay. But I can tell you what it's not. It's not hiding behind words, Mama. Like family and decency and Christianity.
Your hair has always been amazing. I remember those fabulous chopsticks you used to wear.Anna wore a look of amused chagrin. I'm afraid Mr. Greenleaf won't let me wear those anymore. I took a little t...
Hey, you look at your tits; I'll look at mine! (Michael Tolliver, Tales of the City)
I have always preferred an occasional orgy to a nightly routine.What?Aunt Augusta said that. In Travels with My Aunt.
But it's amazing how many people think that gay men should slink off into the shadows when it comes to having friendships with children.
Mona … lots of things are more binding than sex. They last longer too.
Mona knocked at the wrong time.Uh…yeah…wait a minute, Mona -- Mona shouted through the door. Room service, gentlemen. Just pull the covers up.Michael grinned at Jon. My roommate. Brace yourself.Second...
Then they would both dissolve in giggles, bowing in their mirth to the awful hopelessness of it all.
Could you conjugate that? To sleaze. I sleaze. You sleaze. We all have sleazen.
Oh, Mona, we're all damned fools! Some of us just have more fun with it than others. Loosen up, dear! Don't be so afraid to cry . . . or laugh, for that matter. Laugh all you want and cry all you want...
The bay was bright blue today, the hard fierce blue of a gas flame. If there was fog rolling in—and there must be, given the insistence of those horns—she couldn’t see it from here.
I couldn't write—or wouldn't write, at any rate—unable to face the grueling self-scrutiny that fiction demands
There’s a theory, said Anna, handing him a cup of tea as she climbed back into bed, that we are all Atlanteans. Who? Us. San Franciscans. Edgar grinned indulgently, bracing himself for another yarn. A...
She told me about the cop. And the movie star, and the construction worker. You're not having a life Michael, you're fucking the Village People one at a time
Being in love is the only transcendent experience.
The world changes in direct proportion to the number of people willing to be honest about their lives.
Like I've always said, love wouldn't be blind if the braille weren't so damned much fun.
You cannot be loved by someone who doesn't want to know you.
We’re gonna be fifty-year-old libertines in a world full of twenty-year-old Calvinists.
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