We worship numberless gods or idols, but we all need to be the grandest possible versions of ourselves, we need to walk across the face of the earth with as much grace and beauty as we can muster befo...
There's no comfort, it seems, in the world of objects.
Julian is bluff and sturdy, royal; he possesses a gracefully muscular, equine beauty so natural it suggests that beauty itself is a fundamental human condition and not a mutation in the general design...
The song is an unvarnished love shout, an implorement tinged with...anger? Something like anger, but the anger of a philosoher, the anger of a pot. An anger directed at the transience of the world, at...
Mensen zijn dom. Op een trommel slaan om een beer aan het dansen te krijgen, terwijl we de sterren zouden willen ontroeren.
Tyler. His handsome, lion-eyed ravagement. His capacity for devotion. Which is so sexy. Why do so many gay men lack that? Why are they so distracted, so in love with the idea of more and more and then...
There are times when you don't belong and you think you're going to kill yourself. Once I went to a hotel. Later that night I made a plan. The plan was I would leave my family when my second child was...
I knew how I sounded - slow and oafish, like the cousin who gets ditched and goes on playing alone, as if he'd planned it that way. I couldn't quite tell her about the daily beauty, how I didn't tire...
It is the Morocco of America, the New Orleans of the north.
I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.
Beauty is a whore, I like money better.
Love is deep, a mystery - who wants to understand its every particular?
Usputna činjenica: kukce ne privlači plamen svijeće, privlači ih svjetlo onkraj plamena, oni odlaze u vatru i ispeku se, odu u ništavilo jer toliko žude za svjetlom s druge strane.
Superstitions are a comfort sometimes, I don't know why you so adamantly refuse all comforts.
I was not beautiful, but I believed I had the possibility of beauty in me.
I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end. But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
And maybe – maybe – love will arrive, and remain.
We become the stories we tell ourselves
There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children...
The problem with the truth is, it's so often mild and clichéd.