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Call Me by Your Name

Book by André Aciman · 13 quotes · Call Me By Your Name, Andre Aciman, Love

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Call Me by Your Name Quotes

“We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything – what a waste! (…) How you live your life is your business. But remember, our hearts and bodies are given to us only once. Most of us can’t help but live as though we got two lives, one is the mockup, the other the finished version. But there’s only one and before you know it, your heart is worn out. Right now there’s sorrow. I don’t envy the pain. But I envy you the pain.”

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“Perhaps what I liked far more was the evening. Everything about it thrilled me. Every glance that crossed my own came like a compliment, or like an asking and a promise that simply lingered in midair between me and the world around me. I was electrified — by the chaffing, the irony, the glances, the smiles that seemed pleased I existed, by the buoyant air in the shop that graced everything from the glass door to the petits fours, to the golden ochre spell of plastic glasses filled with scotch whiskey, to Mr. Venga's rolled up sleeves, to the poet himself, down to the spiral staircase where we had congregated with the babe sisters — all seemed to glow with a luster at once spellbound and aroused.”

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“We arrived at Stazione Termini around 7 p.m. on a Wednesday evening. The air was thick and muggy, as if Rome had been awash in a rainstorm that had come and gone and relieved none of the dampness. With dusk scarcely an hour away, the street-lights glistened through dense halos, while the lighted storefronts seemed doused in gleaming colors of their own invention. Dampness clung to every forehead and every face. I wanted to caress his face. I couldn’t wait to get to our hotel and shower and throw myself on the bed, knowing all the while that, unless we had good air-conditioning, I’d be no better off after the shower. But I also loved the languor that sat upon the city, like a lover’s tired, unsteady arm resting on your shoulders.”

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“Podía haber negado tantas cosas: que deseaba tocarle las rodillas y las muñecas cuando lucían al sol con aquel viscoso lustre que he visto en tan poca gente; que me encantaba cómo sus pantalones de tenis, cortos y blancos, parecían poseer, de forma permanente, el color del barro y que mientras transcurrían las semanas se convirtió en el color de su piel; que su pelo, cada día más y más rubio, atrapaba al sol antes incluso de que saliese del todo; que su camisa azul ondulada se volvía más ondulada cuando se le ponía en días borrascosos en el patio junto a la piscina, con la promesa de impregnarse de un aroma a piel y sudor que me la ponía dura con tan solo pensarlo. Podía haber negado todo esto. Y haberme creído mis mentiras.”

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