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Queer Quotes

Browse 393 quotes about Queer.

Queer Quotes

“«I'll never forget you, Crest.» «You couldn't even if you wanted to.» That sarcastic tilt to their mouth is back. And they're right. I could never forget them, and I'll never want to. «I love you,» I whisper. «I wish I could hear you say that forever. Keep it in a shell to press to my ear and listen to for the rest of my life.» «Can you do that? With your mer magic?» Crest shakes their head, then taps their temple. «But I'll keep it here.» I tap my chest, right over my heart. «And I'll keep you here.»”

RomanceFictionFantasyGayYoung AdultMythologyContemporaryLgbtQueerMermaids
Book:Out of the Blue
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“Still, she was crazy about these two flickering men and wanted to be just like them with someone, except alive and not mute, though perhaps they spoke ghost-language to each other, and she couldn't hear it. She also loved their best friend, an older female ghost who wore men's clothes and ran barefoot through the vineyards, her red hair spun with flowers and bil- lowing behind her like a red river of fresh blooms. "Hey guys," she called out to the floating men. "Do you know anything about angels?" But of course she got no answer. They were mid-kiss, midair, entwined and enraptured as always. Their eternity was only each other.”

MenGayKissingObsessionGhostsFloatingQueerMagical
Book:When the World Tips Over
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“This is not where I was meant to be. Born to the wrong house, by a stroke of misfortune. The girls here have it all. Men in whorehouses exist only to serve. We are their guards, tailors, cooks and their musicians. Forever in the shadows. If only I could be a woman. With soft hands, big breasts and long hair. To have men fawn all over me, to see them rise and fall. Alas, but all I have is small feet.”

MenSexBornBeautyWomanLgbtqQueerTransWhoreCourtesan
Book:Box of Lies: A Love Story, Without Love
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“Al tempo non lo sapevo, che eravamo scuciti entrambi, rattoppati in modi diversi per resistere alla vita quanto bastava. Eravamo troppo giovani per realizzare che nel nostro disegno era stato cancellato qualcosa di fondamentale e che i nostri corpi cadevano male sulle nostre anime, mettendo in risalto ogni difetto. Lui, nella solidità della sua forma, conteneva a stento venti in tempesta; io avevo ossa sporgenti pronte a bucarmi la pelle e riversare fuori il dentro: la tristezza, l’indefinito, il bisogno.”

LoveGrowing UpSelf DiscoveryQueerIntrospective
Book:Il corpo che indosso
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“To keep life in his desolate, long-suffering soul, he had stored his mind with much profound learning. So now many poor devils went to him for advice, which he never refused though he gave it sadly. It was always the same: ‘Do the best you can, no man can do more—but never stop fighting. For us there is no sin so great as despair, and perhaps no virtue so vital as courage.”

InspirationalEmpowermentLgbtQueerAdvice For Life
Book:The Well Of Loneliness
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“ten reasons to love being queer viii. the people within our community are so supportive and so caring and so loving, most of the time towards people they don’t even know and it is in moments like that when you realize that the queer community is more than a community we are a family”

CommunityFamilyLgbtLgbtqQueerLgbt QuotesLgbt CommunityChosen Family
Book:Have Some Pride: A Collection of LGBTQ+ Inspired Poetry
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“Social transitioning isn't benign. In itself, it's a profound psychosocial treatment. Alleviating the temporary distress a child feels by going along with the child's mistaken perceptions might solve a short-term problem, But it potentially creates a long-term one.”

ChildrenFamilyHarmQueerTransgenderGender IdeologyGender CriticalLgbtq LiteratureSocial Traditions
Book:Sacrificial Lambs: A Liberal Reporter Exposes How the Progressive Left Harms Children in the Name of Gender Ideology
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“And yet, as it turns out, nothing is harder than loving human beings. In part, this is because we don't know what we want. Or, on those unlikely occasions when we do know what we want, we often don't know how to put our desire into words. Instead, a lot of the time we act like my old friend Gomer, snarling and slathering at the end of our chains, driven to fury not only by our imprisonment but also by the presence of others who appear to us to be undeservedly walking free.”

LoveJealousyDogsQueer
Book:Good Boy: My Life in Seven Dogs
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“I find myself making excuses for this kind of bullying behavior. Not everyone has been to college, learned trans 101, studied queer theory... But this is unfair to myself and other trans people. I've come to realize that understanding me isn't a matter of being an intellectual. Likewise, one doesn't have to be a radical to respect my feelings. Decent people consider how their comments affect others.”

AcceptanceToleranceQueerTransgenderRadicalism
Author:Elliot Deline
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“When I teach "Introduction to Gender and Sexuality Studies" at UC Riverside, I show a series of documentary films about gendered violence and suffering. These films are about the horrific violence (sexual, physical, emotional) that women endure at the hands of men and the state, about the incredible toll that masculinity takes on men's bodies and mental health (as well as women's bodies and mental health), and about the tedium and unequal division of labor that destroys, or threatens to destroy, astrounding number of heterosexual relationships. Even though I have seen these films a dozen times, I still cry when I watch them, and I have always assumed that I am crying feminist tears. I have assumed I am crying for women. But more recently, something shifted. After wachting the films, rereading the numerous articles about gender oppression I had assigned, and listening to countless stories from straight women students about their abusive or just plain not-feminist male partners, I got in my car and breathed a huge sigh of relief that I am queer. I went home and told my partner, "Thank god we are queer." And I realized that I was crying queer tears for straight people.”

FeminismTearsAbuseQueerRealisationStraight
Book:The Tragedy of Heterosexuality
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“But then that evening on the couch Malcolm said something he didn’t catch. Oliver had leaned forward and asked what he’d said, and Malcolm had kissed him. A speculative kiss; nothing more, nothing less. Oliver could smell that dizzying aftershave of Malcolm’s mixed with the musk of a day in a hot office and a night at a party in Kensington. Sweat and tobacco and alcohol. “I don’t know how to do any of this,” Oliver whispered. He pressed his forehead to Malcolm’s and closed his eyes. All he could see was Jenny, there in the house with Imogen at her side. Manic, when he’d left her this morning. Baking pies and organising their receipts and bills into boxes so they could find everything when they needed them. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, wouldn’t acknowledge his readiness to leave. Imogen hadn’t kissed him goodbye. His daughter, once so full of life, with so many questions and an endless thirst for adventure, had grown quiet and deeply suspicious of his absences too; she simply avoided interaction with him as much as she could now, which upset him more than anything else. He could accept Jenny’s coldness, he had earned that, but Imogen? He couldn’t abide the thought of alienating his only child. He wanted to sit her down and explain what was going on in his life, in her life. But how could she begin to understand what was happening when he barely grasped it himself? That closeness they’d had on their little tour of the children’s homes seemed so very long ago now. “Just let yourself go, Oliver,” Malcolm said. “Abandon yourself. Forget about everything else. Just for tonight.” Oliver kissed him back finally and raised a hand to Malcolm’s face. After a moment’s hesitation, he ran his fingers through Malcolm’s fine blond hair. He’d wanted to do that for weeks. To touch him. One touch led to another until their hands were entwined and they were kissing in the darkness with the sound of London traffic drifting into the apartment. One door being opened that led to another door, and another, deeper into a house he didn’t know the dimensions of. But Malcolm coaxed him through with gentle encouragement. It felt like a controlled explosion in his life. Over the next few days and weeks, he came to realise that there were shards of that explosion in everything. Some of them shone like diamonds, some of them were sharp to the touch. He tried to conceal them as well as he could.”

GayBetrayalLondonKissQueer
Book:PoppyHarp
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