I liked you the first time I saw you. You were sitting on the floor surrounded by books, and you looked up when I opened the door and smiled right at me. It felt like you had been waiting for me, like you were welcoming me home.
Like true philosophers I've come to believe that religion is an illusion of childhood, outgrown after proper education.
People loved you in the way they knew how - and often it was not the way you knew. Or needed.
This is how God made me. You are how God made you. All God's chillun are made how God made 'em. You think God made a mistake, take it up with Him.
I don't know if real courage lies in storming barricades or simply not denying the truth.
I know you've all heard the advice, "Show, don't tell." The best writers don't tell you, and quite frankly they don't just show you -- they make you feel it, live it, taste it, touch it. Storytelling is about being in the moment with the characters.
You know that thing about Death Be Not Proud? Well, Fear Be Not Proud either. And Fear Be Not Elegant. What Fear be is stumbling, bumbling flight, crashing through brush, slip-sliding on pine needles, sloshing through puddles that are always deeper than you expect.
All cynics are disappointed idealists. The more stars in the eyes, the harder the fall.
He looked okay. No, to be honest. He looked a lot better than okay. He looked...fine. Fine, as in get the Chiffons over here to sing a chorus.
Rachel delivered it like an official pronouncement. Like she was one of the fairies gifting Sleeping Beauty's christening: Beauty. Intelligence. Heterosexual.
To find them all in one package...well, perhaps better not to dwell on his package in my fragile state.
Hearts got broken every day. Nobody died from that. But it did kind of fade the sunlight and drain the color from the days.
I’m not going to let go of you. I’m going to hold you all night. So go ahead and feel whatever you feel. If you’re still craving cocaine, go ahead. You’re safe. You can crave it all you want, but I won’t let go, and if you still feel like you can’t trust yourself in the morning, and it’s what you want, I’ll drive you to rehab myself. Okay?" ~ Max
Rick said, "Is there some place we can go and talk?" "You want to talk?," Keir raised an eyebrow. "I never thought I'd see the day." "Nah, I want to tell you this joke I heard." Keir nodded, patient. "Shoot." "Two Irish cops walk into a bar. The first cop says..." Rick's voice dropped. He said gruffly, "I love you. Come home." Keir managed to keep his voice steady. "What's the other cop say?" The sweetness of Rick's smile was like a kick in his chest. "That's what I'm here to find out, boyo.
I thought again how odd it was to be on formal terms with someone you had once permitted to lick your ears.
And I thought maybe I didn't need to worry about my heart anymore because it had stopped beating a couple of seconds earlier, and I was still sitting there living and breathing-though admittedly I wasn't feeling much of anything.
If there was one life skill everyone on the planet needed, it was the ability to think with critical objectivity
I love you," Jake whispered. "Are you strong enough for this?" I made myself comfortable. Said over my shoulder, "Sure." "Would you tell me if you weren't?" I grinned. "Maybe. I can't think of a nicer way to commit suicide." "That's good. I can't think of a more pleasant way to commit murder.
...Jake, a homosexual cop buried so deep in the closet he didn't know where to look for himself.
How did people get over this? They obviously did. Every day someone fell in love with the wrong person and had to pack up all their fragile, misguided hopes and unwanted affection, and move on to the next picnic table.
I'm not insane. This is very simple, very straightforward. Provided he doesn't kill me, its foolproof.
I want people to react to my work, to think, to question, to challenge, to cry and laugh and feel.
He needed fresh air and sunshine. A walk in the woods and afterward a good book to read by the fire. Yeah, that was the life.
He was probably selfish in the sack. Probably selfish and greedy and...unsophisticated. And hung like a horse.
I'm a thirty-something gay man with a dodgy heart. I sell books for a living. Who wants to read about that?
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