You had to be willing to fight in order for a love story to last a life time.

So, let me get this straight-- You want me to stop being a lesbian and being attracted to women because it is a 'sin'? Last time I checked, when you lie you are sinning. Sure, I could tell you I am no longer a lesbian or that I am no longer attracted to women and am straight, or I could even tell you the moon is made of cheese. I could tell you many things, but the moon will still not be made of cheese, and I will still not be attracted to men. I could tell you a lie in order to placate you, but isn’t the truth supposed to set me free? I choose truth over lies any day of the week.

Sure, I could tell you I am no longer a lesbian or that I am no longer attracted to women and am straight, or I could even tell you the moon is made of cheese. I could tell you many things, but the moon will still not be made of cheese, and I will still not be attracted to men.

His hand lay across my stomach as he slept soundly. I entwined my fingers with his and breathed through the warmth that seeped through my chest. Such a simple, sweet thing to do, yet holding hands in bed was incredibly intimate.

Together, in that room, our childhood notions of love melted away. We discovered love was not a fairytale. Sometimes there were no happy endings, and when there were, you needed to work like hell to keep the happiness alive.

Love is a wild fire that cannot be contained by any mere element known to man.

For the first time in my life, I said the words, “I need a drink.

Everything about Andrew was hot, from the hands holding him down to the mouth steadily taking Neil apart. Neil finally understood why his mother thought this was so dangerous.

Gabriel.' I'm so close to him our lips are almost touching, and then I move closer so our lips are touching as I say his name again. It's like a kiss but it's not really a kiss. And it's nice and I want more. I move my lips without saying his name, still barely touching, then closer, caressing his lips with mine. And he kisses me.

Now is not the time for bigots and racists. No time for sexists and homophobes. Now, more than ever, is the time for ARTISTS. It’s time for us to rise above and to create. To show humanity. To spread hope. We must prevent society from destroying itself, from losing its way. Now is the time for love.

I was diamond on the outside, and I would not break.Inside, though, I was already broken.

If you think your religion requires discrimination, you're probably misreading your faith.

The more I write stories for young people, and the more young readers I meet, the more I'm struck by how much kids long to see themselves in stories. To see their identities and perspectives—their avatars—on the page. Not as issues to be addressed or as icons for social commentary, but simply as people who get to do cool things in amazing worlds. Yes, all the “issue” books are great and have a place in literature, but it's a different and wildly joyous gift to find yourself on the pages of an entertainment, experiencing the thrills and chills of a world more adventurous than our own.And when you see that as a writer, you quickly realize that you don't want to be the jerk who says to a young reader, “Sorry, kid. You don't get to exist in story; you're too different.” You don't want to be part of our present dystopia that tells kids that if they just stopped being who they are they could have a story written about them, too. That's the role of the bad guy in the dystopian stories, right? Given a choice, I'd rather be the storyteller who says every kid can have a chance to star.

When you've grown up mis-educated, surrounded by fear and hate, unaware of your privilege, lies can sound like the truth.

Same-sex marriage has not created problems for religious institutions religious institutions have created problems for same-sex marriage.

Being equal does not mean being the same.

Because I am, just as you are you. We don’t always get to pick who we are, Shelly Wynn, but we can choose to celebrate it.

Fear is the intended result of codifying homophobia into law.

Love should never mean having to live in fear.

In the unification of two minds, orientation of sexuality is irrelevant.

The power of love is that it sees all people.

The world could use more love. Why deny it to others?

People think that LGBTs adopting children will hurt them, but it's not being in loving homes that hurts children most.

What does love mean if we would deny it to others?

Dear Rocky,Here I am taking my pencil in my hand to say hello, hoping you are in the best of health, both physically and mentally. As for me, I am fine thanks to Almighty God.The weather in the valley is in the shits. It's been raining since Thanksgiving and here it is almost at the end of December and it's still raining. Instead of growing a prick, I think I'm going to grow a tail, like a tadpole. Ha, ha, ha!

If you voted for a man who said "Grab em by the pussy," you have zero room to claim to protect anyone in bathrooms.

I've fought for religious freedom and I can tell you that anti-gay 'religious freedom' bills aren't it.

Today's 'religious freedom' policies should not be seen as a problem limited to LGBT people but as a co-optation of religion that affects us all.

Only by speaking out can we create lasting change. And that change begins with coming out.

Every woman I have ever loved has left her print upon me, where I loved some invaluable piece of myself apart from me-so different that I had to stretch and grow in order to recognize her. And in that growing, we came to separation, that place where work begins.

You look like a lesbian artist fairy.

We assume that anything that is new to us is new to human society as a whole, and that if we don’t see it reflected in history textbooks and in recent memory then it cannot have existed for long.

The heavy warlike losses of the AIDS years were relegated to queer studies classrooms, taught as gay history and not American history.

Love has no gender - compassion has no religion - character has no race.

Either you are homophobic or you are a human - you cannot be both.

Homosexuals are not made, they are born.

Homosexuality is immutable, irreversible and nonpathological.

Being homosexual is no more abnormal than being lefthanded.

Can you imagine, somebody telling you, your love for your dearly beloved is a sin! Can you imagine, somebody telling you, women are inferior to men, and are meant only serve the men! Can you imagine, somebody telling you, a man can have multiple wives, and yet be deemed civilized! Here that somebody is a fundamentalist ape - a theoretical pest from the stone-age, that somehow managed to survive even amidst all the rise of reasoning and intellect.

Privilege doesn't just insulate people from the consequences of their prejudice, it cuts them off from their humanity.

When we are surrounded by such diversity - in nature, in culture, in human spirit - how can we stand not to acknowledge it?

That's the problem with memories: you can visit them but you can't live with them.

Anna's voice wasn't a beautiful voice - rough edged and sorrowful, a bit used, somehow male and female at once. Yet it had more vibrancy to it than most Danish voices, which were often thin and white and too pretty to trigger a shiver. Anna's voice had the heat of the south; it warmed Einar, as if her throat were red with coals.

When I opened the door, Andrew was standing there like a remedy for heart palpitations. Or maybe he made them worse. It was hard to tell.

And without my consent, with my defences in ruins, while my brain was sleeping, my stupid heart went and fell headfirst into love.

My last thought before falling asleep last night was a realisation that I was falling in love with Andrew. Well, not me exactly. My stupid, traitorous heart.

I think he won a tiny piece of my heart that day. If he didn't have the whole damn thing before then, he certainly had part of it now.

I kissed him softly and left my lips pressed to his for a few beats of my heart.

The disaster, as Dad and others saw it, was the emerging AIDS crisis and the cultural attacks instigated by conservative against gay men and women in the early 1980s. It was found in the cruel indifference of President Ronald Reagan, who wouldn’t publicly address the epidemic until the end of his second term, after twenty thousand Americans had died, and the hostile rhetoric of conservatives close to Reagan like Jerry Falwell, founder of the Moral Majority, and Pat Buchanan, Reagan’s future speechwriter. In 1983, Buchanan wrote of AIDS, “The poor homosexuals–they have declared war upon nature, and now nature is extracting an awful retribution.

The truth is, I have gay dads and I’m not damaged. I grew up with an incredible and loving family that always provided for me when I was younger and has continued to guide and support me as I’ve grown older.

I asked my dad, “If we were going to have two dads, should we call you Dad Number One and Dad Number Two?

It’s worth noting my family doesn’t use the word step regarding anyone who’s married into our family. Jerry isn’t, nor has he ever been, my step-dad. His mom isn’t my step grandma: neither are my aunts, uncles, or cousins. While there was never a discussion regarding how we categorize or title our family, we all just understood that for us, we are all simply family.

Ultimately, the one thing that makes a family is love.

For those of us who are told our families are wrong, we can question more strongly what we believe is right.

What I don’t understand is how some people say they can recognize the necessity to provide people with equal treatment under the law but they say it only applies in certain situations. People still use their religion and morality as an excuse to deny services to those perceived as other.

We can’t say it’s justifiable to deny some people their rights because we personally find something offensive. People have the right to their beliefs and they have the right to think that homosexuality is wrong, but they don’t have the right to use their religion and their beliefs to deny the rights of others.

Our family had waited so long for this moment and had spent so many years being told we were undeserving of this basic right. But for me there was a sense of validation because after eighteen years, I was finally able to stand with my two dads when they legally wed.

People have the right to their opinions. But I also have the right to my family. No one in our country should be put in the situation where they grow up in fear because our society has decided some people are valued less than others.

Those with unearned privileges often spin things as 'political correctness' to further silence those they wish to oppress.

I had zero idea of what I was doing.. I honestly had no idea where to start. All I knew was I had something I craved to say.. I wanted to create art that lived on longer than I do. Perseverance and teaching yourself, every day through stress and hard work proves shit really does progress without you realizing. One minute you're an amateur, knowing nothing, not even the basics. The next you can put pen to paper, write a song, and create art in such little time! It's crazy beautiful.

Don't try to be brave all at once. Take it in steps.

You misquote me. It's NOT "Aah." It's "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The value of a sex manual does not lie in its length or duration, but whether or not the problem it addresses works.

When these flies were put together in all-male groups they formed long, moving chains resembling conga lines, with each male attempting (unsuccessfully) to mate with the male in front of it.

People who concern themselves with the rights of other adults who engage in consensual acts involving sex, love, and/or eating croissants together are damaged and in pain.

From the standpoint of integrity, I think we all need to own up to our dirty little secrets. I believe that when we are open about our own strange desires or unusual lives, it paves the way for others to do the same. In the past thirty years, gay men and lesbians took a lot of flack to tell the truth about their love lives and their courage opened the door for a mass migration out of the closet. We’re now at a moment in time when unconventional families (even thirty-year triads and gay couples) are losing their children in custody battles because their families don’t conform to mainstream ideas about what a family should be. Given this context, I want to be someone who stands up for my choices even if they’re unpopular, even if I get snickers at cocktail parties.

See, the institutions and specialist, experts, you see. Yes, yes,experts, indeed. See, they would have us believe that there is an orderto art. An explanation. Humans are odd creatures in that way. Alwayssearching for a formula. Yes, a formula to create an expected norm forunexplainable greatness. A cook book you might say. Yes, a recipebook for life, love, and art. However, my dear, let me tell you. Yes,there is no such thing. Every individual is unique in their own design,as intended by God himself. We classify, yes, always must we classify,for if not, then we would be lost, yes lost now wouldn't we?Classification, order, expectations, but alas, we forget. For what is art,if not the out word expression of an artist. It is the soul of the artisanand if his expectations are met, than who are we to judge whether hiswork be art or not?

I was an utterance in absentia. I was a forgotten word, uttered and mislaid long ago. I was the word that existed because there was another word that was my opposite, and without it I was nothing. I gained meaning only by acknowledging that possible other.Nida

It is not often that I have two options to choose from. It is nice to be compelled towards something, otherwise one drifts through life unimpeded.Bhanggi

People are complicated. And messy. Seems too convenient that we’d all fit inside some multiple-choice question.

If we start preemptively cutting out parts of who we are because they’re ‘not feminist enough’, then we’ve failed before we’ve begun.

To her, not packing our lunches every day or joining the PTA is a feminist rallying cry.

Some critics of trans people have told us that we shouldn’t feel this pain of being denied the legitimacy of our own selves; gender is, of course, just a social construct. I wonder if these people also tell widows not to bother grieving their husbands, because marriage is also just another social construct.

No person, no matter how important society deems their relationship to you, has the right to denounce you for who you are.

If sex is not just about reproduction, it is not just about genes, XY chromosomes, and hormones either. Sex is introduced to explain skeletal structure, mental aptitude, posture, emotional disposition, aesthetic preference, body fat, sexual orientation and responsiveness, athletic ability, social dominance, shape and weight, artistic ability. It is also supposed to explain any number of so-called "instincts", including the nesting instinct, the maternal instinct, and perhaps even the Budweiser instinct.

Walter Mignolo terms and articulates _critical cosmopolitanism, juxtaposing it with globalization, which is a process of "the homogeneity of the planet from above––economically, politically and culturally." Although _globalization from below_ is to counter _globalization from above_ from the experience and perspective of those who suffer from the consequences of _globalization from above_, cosmopolitanism differs, according to Mignolo, form these two types of globalization. Mignolo defines globalization as 'a set of designs to manage the world,' and cosmopolitanism as 'a set of projects toward planetary conviviality

Whenever one comes to the the table for interreligous dialogue, there is what I would call an _ecumenical taboo_ that one has to comply with. The ecumenical taboo_ does not exist in a written document, but people tend to practice it around the dialogue table. One should not raise, for instance, such questions as gender justice, sexual orientation issues, religious constructions of the other, multiple forms of violence in a religious community, or religious cooperation with neo/imperialism. each religion has its own _history of sin_ that has justified and perpetuated oppression and exclusion of certain groups of people through its own religious teaching, doctrine, and practice. In order to be _nice_ and _tolerant_ to one another, interreligious dialogue has not challenged the fundamental issues of injustice that a particular religion has practiced, justified, and perpetuated in various ways. I do not disregard that most ecumenists have based interreligious dialogue on a politics of tolerance, and this has played a significant role in easing the antagonism between religions, at least among the leaders of established religions. However, we should ground an authentic ecumenism and theology of religion in a _politics of affirmation and transformation, rather than a politics of tolerance_.

Teaching and learning _religious plurality often ends up privileging religious _texts_ over _practice_ and largely ignoring the social and historical contexts and the lived experience of people who shape, situate, and structure these religious texts. Furthermore, adopting the politics of recognition as a pedagogical principle in teaching can lead to an _uncritical silence_ about the various forms of oppression and domination of certain religious groups. Here people often use _religious difference_ as a _religious alibi_ for the oppression or violation of human rights of certain groups of people, such as women or LGBT people.

Cosmopolitanism seeks a _we_ that does not rely on the exclusion of _others_ but, instead, recognizes and confirms each other as part of the planetary _we_. The cosmopolitan _we_ is not grounded in a monolithic sameness but in a constant alterity and _ethical singularity_ of each individual human person regardless of one's national origin and belonging, religious affiliation, gender, race and ethnicity, class ability, or sexuality.

I am small.So are stars from a distance. It's all a matter of perspective.

It is strange... the reasons one feels he doesn't deserve things.

One can learn from what is not said.

A conversation in which the two parties have different beliefs should never begin with the intention of converting the other party to your own beliefs. Every worthwhile conversation's goal should be to understand the other person's opinions and help them understand your own.

By claiming that our words are too hard to understand, the media perpetuates the idea that WE are too hard to understand, and suggests that there’s no point in trying.

Prejudice is learned. What will you teach others through your actions and words?

you asked me if I believed in eternal love. Love is something way too abstract and indefinable. It depends on what we perceive and what we experience. If we don't exist, it doesn't exist. And we change so much; love must change as well.

Grief is one big, gaping hole, isn’t it? It’s everywhere and all consuming. Some days you think you can’t go on because the only thing waiting for you is more despair. Some days you don’t want to go on because it’s easier to give up than to get hurt again.

He was still experimenting with kissing girls even though he said he'd rather be kissing boys. That's exactly what he said. I didn't know exactly what to think about that, but Dante was going to be Dante and it I was going to be his friend, I would just have to learn to be okay with it.

Years ago, homosexuals were given special status within the tribe. They had powerful medicine. I think it's even more true today, even though our tribe has assimilated into homophobia. I mean, a person has to have magic to assert their identity without regard to all the bullshit, right?

Changing the way LGBTQ individualswith chronic or life-limiting illnesses are cared for requires a paradigm shift in the way we (collectively, as health care professionals) approach the conversation about what it means to be inclusive in our compassion. You don’t need to change your religious or moral beliefs to provide good care to LGBTQ individuals.

Suicide. This is the exact opposite of last time, for this time I'm experiencing a kind of pleasure in life, in being alive, a pleasure in living that I've never experienced before, and I'm hopeful and confident that I can become someone with dignity. I know now why I couldn't change certain characteristics and certain things about myself, but it's not a problem anymore. Certain pathways I failed to open in the past have now opened. My whole self is radiating light. I see with clarity. I understand the cause and effect of the last year. What I had imagined I've now attained. It's as if I can see my life right in front of my eyes, and all I have to do is reach out and draw it in... Now I don't feel the acute pain I felt before; I feel enlightened, at peace. It's as if I've instantly found the secret of "Suffering", how to bear it and how to endure it... Yes, this time I've decided to kill myself not because I can't live with suffering and not because I don't enjoy being alive. I love life passionately, and my wish to die is a wish to live...Yes, I've chosen suicide. The endpoint of this process of "Forgiveness". Not to punish anyone or to protest a wrong. I've chosen suicide with a clarity I've never possessed before, with a rational resolve and sense of calm, in order to pursue the ultimate meaning of my life, act on my belief about the beauty between two people... I take complete responsibility for my life, and even if my physical body disappears upon death, I don't believe my spirit will disappear. As long as I have loved people fully, then I can be content fading into "Nothingness". If I'm using death to express my passion for life, then I still don't love her enough, don't love life enough. and I will reincarnate in a different form to love her and to be part of her life... So the death of my flesh really doesn't mean anything. Doesn't solve anything.Is this a tragedy? Will there be tragedy?

I wanted to hear his window open, hear his espadrilles on the balcony, and then the sound of my own window, which was never locked, being pushed open as he'd step into my room after everyone had gone to bed, slip under my covers, undress me without asking, and after making me want him more than I thought I could ever want another living soul, gently, softly, and, with the kindness one Jew extends to another, work his way into my body, gently and softly, after heeding the words I'd been rehearsing for days now, Please, don't hurt me, which meant, Hurt me all you want.

Long after you go downand the vessel rusts apartyour bones sunkenburied in the ocean floorI wonder if you miss people?

I think you've got to get out whatever's hurting you through your art, so it doesn't twist you up inside.

I know you're upset, I know you're scared, but don't walk away.

His voice is both low and quiet, and it has this hypnotic rhythm to it. I wonder whether someday he'll give sermons with that voice, whether he'll throw down judgement with that voice.

We're only three class sessions in and I'm already behind? And to hear it from him? This buttoned-up Bible-thumper I can't get out of my head?

High school is such an incestuous little pool.

He's not recruiting me to the oiled-up Gay Bliss Club of Northern Utah, but to the LDS Church.

I can't read him. I can't grasp him. I have no idea what he's thinking and if he's messing with me or if he really is this good, but never before have I wanted so fiercely to learn forward and put my mouth on someone's neck, begging them to want me.

Light bursts behind my closed eyes, so intensely I nearly hear the popping sound. It's my brain melting, or my world ending, or maybe we've just been hit by a meteor and this is the rapture and I'm given one last perfect moment before I'm sent to purgatory and he;s sent somewhere much, much better.It isn't his first kiss - I know that - but it's his first real one.

Everything feels yes.

I am a monster beneath him, with arching hips, an octopus with hands everywhere at once. I don't think anything in the history of time has felt this good.

The things that I love about you aren't going to go away when you go on your book tour, and they're not going to go away when you go on your mission. I'll still be here, and I'll still be thinking about all those things. I'll still be working on being a better person, a better friend, a better son. I'll still be wondering what it would be like to be a better boyfriend for you. And you will be on your mission, thinking about how much you wish your weren't gay.

Maybe I'm crying because I'm terrified that he's come here to do more damage, to reactivate what I feel only to let me down easy again, missionary style.

My brain is such a traitorous beast.

I can always recognize the fellow wounded.

I don’t mean to take the bow off the end of your rain, but you gotta be smart about your first boyfriend.

Psychological and emotional wellness is an ongoing process for everyone.

There are tons of kids out there who endure chronic abuse and suffer in silence. They can’t trust anyone, they can’t tell anyone, and they have no idea how to get away from it.

I don’t have enough gross words in my gross vocabulary to describe how gross that gross thought is. Gross.

There are countless reasons for reading, but when you’re young and uncertain of your identity, of who you may be, one of the most compelling is the quest to discover yourself reflected in the pages of a book.

I believe that 'love' and 'wrong' are two deeply unrelated words that should never be thrown into the same sentence together. Like 'dessert' and 'broccoli.

Saying it's hard being straight is like complaining to the poor that it's difficult being wealthy.

Persecution complexes are reaffirming to those who benefit from unearned privileges.

If you think being straight means you're being discriminated against, you're probably misreading your privilege.

Those who benefit from unearned privilege are too often quick to discount those who don't.

Bigots often like to say they're the ones being hurt as they oppress and hurt others. Never fall for the 'pity the privileged' routine.

If you love your country, you must be willing to defend it from fraud, bigotry, and recklessness--even from a president.

Building bridges takes us further than building walls.

Discrimination is discrimination, even when people claim it's 'tradition.

What does religious freedom mean if we would use it as a cover for hate and privilege?

It's terrifying to think you could become the next statistic.

They should love you, just as you are. Parents should love their kids, right?" "You'd think so.

Privilege is when you contribute to the oppression of others and then claim that you are the one being discriminated against.

Sometimes the best way we can serve God is by honouring and taking care of that which has already been give to us. This, is my case, is my children.

What matters most is not 'what' you are, but 'who' you are.

A young homosexual friend recently said, "It's no secret that you, that one, has such-and-such color hair, is yea high, weighs thus and so, and so on, but when you keep one part of yourself secret, that becomes the most important part of you."And that is true, I think; it may be the most important truth of all.

Trevor cupped his hands around it, felt Zach's heartbeat throbbing between his palms. The skin of the shaft was textured, slightly rippled beneath the surface. The head was as smooth as satin, as rose petals. Trevor rubbed his thumb across it, squeezed gently, heard Zack suck air in through his teeth and moan as he let it out. He could see blood suffusing the tissue just beneath the translucent skin, a deep dusky rose delicately purpled at the edges, crowned with a single dewy pearl of come. It was as intimate, as raw as holding someone's heart in his hands.

He looks at me. His face is dotted with raindrops but I think there are tears too. 'I love her. I always have. You know that.' 'And me?'And I known he means how I feel about him and me kissing him.'You're my friend, Gabriel.''Do you kiss all your friends like that?' But he asks it without the harshness of his other questions. It's a real question.'Just you.

Political correctness’ is a label the privileged often use to distract from their privilege and hate.

I'm surprised I could actually talk with how much I was grinning.

It's not 'over-sensitivity' to ask to be treated with the same dignity and respect shown to others.

Inside my chest, my lungs are wild animals, clawing at the cage."Oh, man," Autumn mumbles from beside me. "His smile makes me stupid."Her words are a dim echo of my own thoughts: His smile ruins me. The feeling makes me uneasy, a dramatic lurch that tells me I need to have him or I won't be okay.

Kids without dads are desperate and jealous. Those with dads can be uppity and sharp.

Are you?" I said. "Gay, I mean?" -I hoped he wasn't offended by my asking, but after everything that had happened, I really wanted to know."No," he said. "I thought I was for about a w-w-week once. But now I know I'm not."If there was ever an answer that sounded like the truth, that was it.

Lord knows why I find you attractive, Michael, when you generally smell like weed and broken hobo dreams.

There is nothing 'honorable' or 'reasonable' in giving a pass to those who want to discriminate.

«This summer's been a dream,» Ethan murmured.«I know.»«I just hate that we've only got one week before it ends.»«You've got it all wrong, Eth,» Alek said, gently running his hand through Ethan's surfer hair. «This summer's not the dream. We are. You and me. And it doesn't matter what time of the year it is, as long as we're together.»«I like that, Polly-O.» Ethan smiled.«We'll wreak havoc, you and me.» Alek told him.

Sundays normally were hell. Or just the church pat of it, actually. It wasn't that I was afraid of God, or had anything against Him. It was just that having to be there for two to four hours made me cross, hateful, and blasphemous. Plus it seemed to me that the regulars, the good God-fearing folks, who didn't have diddly-squat, liked to pretend they had a lot to flaunt -- whereas the ones that had a whole lot showed up on holidays and funerals, in fancy cars and dressed to kill, all made possible by money they didn't tithe away every week. That's where Sunday-based faith got you -- broke and with a sore butt!

In late 1985, the Reagan White House blocked the use of CDC money for education, leaving the US behind other Western nations in telling its citizens how to avoid contracting the virus. Many Americans still thought you could get AIDS from a toilet seat or a glass of water. According to one poll, the majority of Americans supported quarantining AIDS patients.This heightened awareness set off waves of anxiety across the country, which was often express through jokes (Q: What do you call Rock Hudson in a wheelchair? A: Roll-AIDS!) and violence. Between the years 1985 and 1986, anti-gay violence increased by 42 percent in the US. Even in San Francisco, where Greyhound buses still dropped off gay men and women taking refuge from the prejudice of their hometowns, carloads of teenagers would drive through the Castro looking for targets.In December 1985, a group of teenagers, shouting “diseased faggot” and “you’re killing us all,” dragged a man named David Johnson from his car in a San Francisco parking lot. While his lover looked on in horror, the teenagers kicked and beat Johnson with their skateboards, breaking three of his ribs, bruising his kidneys, an gashing his face and neck with deep fingernail scratches.

Bigotry and sexism destroy the unity needed for a nation to live.

Saying something is 'politically correct' is often a way of dismissing the voices of the oppressed.

Tolerance of intolerance enables oppression.

Reducing a group to a slur or stereotype reduces us all.

Urging an organization to be inclusive is not an attack. It's progress.

Privilege is when you can afford to sit back and watch as others' rights are trampled upon.

You're not under attack when others gain rights and privileges you've always had.

I feel that for white America to understand the significance of the problem of the Negro will take a bigger and tougher America than any we have yet known. I feel that America's past is too shallow, her national character too superficially optimistic, her very morality too suffused with color hate for her to accomplish so vast and complex a task. Culturally the Negro represents a paradox: Though he is an organic part of the nation, he is excluded by the ride and direction of American culture. Frankly, it is felt to be right to exclude him, and it if felt to be wrong to admit him freely. Therefore if, within the confines of its present culture, the nation ever seeks to purge itself of its color hate, it will find itself at war with itself, convulsed by a spasm of emotional and moral confusion. If the nation ever finds itself examining its real relation to the Negro, it will find itself doing infinitely more than that; for the anti-Negro attitude of whites represents but a tiny part - though a symbolically significant one - of the moral attitude of the nation. Our too-young and too-new America, lusty because it is lonely, aggressive because it is afraid, insists upon seeing the world in terms of good and bad, the holy and the evil, the high and the low, the white and the black; our America is frightened of fact, of history, of processes, of necessity. It hugs the easy way of damning those whom it cannot understand, of excluding those who look different, and it salves its conscience with a self-draped cloak of righteousness. Am I damning my native land? No; for I, too, share these faults of character! And I really do not think that America, adolescent and cocksure, a stranger to suffering and travail, an enemy of passion and sacrifice, is ready to probe into its most fundamental beliefs.

I think you're something wonderful.

Nails that claw by a beautiful mind.A pretty face can leave you blind - Poem 'Small Pain' from 'The B Word: The B in LBGTQ Poetry'.

I am absolutely comfortable with the fact that men marrying men, women marrying women, and heterosexual men and women marrying another are entitled to the same exact rights, all the civil rights, all the civil liberties. And quite frankly, I don't see much of a distinction beyond that.

Gays, lesbians, straights, feminists, fascist pigs, communists, Hare Krishnas - none of them bother me. I don't care what banner they raise. But what I can't stand are hollow people. When I'm with them I just can't bare it, and wind up saying things I shouldn't.

So I never told you about my sexual orientation - it means we were never close friends. My body my business.

Girls who like each other have a different energy. More intense. Furtive. They're part of a secret world. They speak in code, like spies. Everything has a hidden meaning.

I was shut off from my body; I had barely thought about sexuality or longing. Up until this point, my sexual experiences had felt business like or even transactional...I hadn't been suppressing urges or denying my needs. I didn't feel like I had any, not corporeal ones. My journal entries from that time speak to depression and feelings of isolation, fears that a friend would leave, a sense that I had been responsible for my mother's departure and would therefore cause anyone I loved or needed to leave. I was still spending most of my time in my head. I was removed from my own feelings.

Don't judge yourself by what others did to you.

I realized the preserving a relationship at all costs was not as important as affirming the human right to be free from abusive treatment.

The queers could almost pass for the same species as the straights.

I glanced back to Yanni to see him smiling at us. "You two can stop being so cute now." "Well, Spencer can," Andrew deadpanned. "I, unfortunately, am cute all the time." I laughed. "It's true. He is.

I have eyes, and you can't keep yours off me." Simon, Finally Letting Go

Is this what she would have wanted, Hawke?" Ronan asked quietly. "Justice at the cost of an innocent man and his child?

Terror doesn't change people from gay to straight. It just hurts innocent people.

Christy isn’t a case, he’s a person.

So please, for the love of gender- go bloom. Or water someone else while they do.

Are you bisexual""Labels were invented for people like you who can't grasp a reality outside of a defined gender role. I like what i like.

Even when we are confused about someone’s gender, and don’t have a greater awareness of what it means to be trans, we have a choice to respond with kindness rather than cruelty.

Like me wanting to get nailed made me less of a man than him? That was bullshit. He seemed kind of sexist. I bet he was a fucking Republican.

There were things that Pumpkin Head—now not Pumpkin Head anymore—had to do to be a girl. He had to be careful how he dressed, and how he acted. He had to be careful how he talked, and he always had to be calm. He was very frightened of what would happen if he didn't stay calm. For his face was really just a wonderful plastic one. The real Pumpkin Head was still inside, locked in, waiting to come out.

But I knew the first question Mom asked Gail was, Is its a boy or a girl? Because, for some reason, that is the first thing everybody wants to know the minute you’re born. Should we label it with pink or blue? Wouldn’t want anyone to mistake the gender of a infant! Why is that so important? Its a baby! And why does it have to be a simple answer? One or the other? Not all of us fit so neatly into the category we get saddled with on Day One when the doctor glances down and makes a quick assessment of the available equipment.

Once he asked me what I thought had turned me gay.""I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider," said Simon.

This is why homophobia is a terrible evil: it disguises itself as concern while it is inherently hate.

I wondered if all women did with other women was lie and hug.

If your organization is not formally committed to a policy of nondiscrimination based on sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression or gender presentation in its employment practices, you should not expect lesbian,gay, bisexual, transgender, gender-nonconforming, queer, and/or questioning patients and families to feel safe seeking out your services.

Amazing how eye and skin color come in many shades yet many think sexuality is just gay or straight.

Our perception of happiness is determined by what we experience.

Is this your boyfriend?" the first nun asked. Clair Olivia looked me up and down. “No. This is my gay friend who decided he was straight and single-handedly wrecked havoc at an all-boys school in Massachusetts this fall. He’s gay again and home for Christmas, so yay!

The eye of youth is very observant. Youth has its moments of keen intuition, even normal youth -- but the intuition of those who stand mi-way between the sexes is so ruthless, so poignant, so deadly, as to be in the nature of an added scourge...

The truth is, the notion that gay marriage is harmful to marriage, is sort of mind-boggling, because these are people trying to get married. But it seems to me, if you want to defend marriage against something, defend it against divorce.

Guns' aka Luke Gunner had a record as long as my cock. Believe me, it was impressive." ~Lloyd Ledbetter

As though I had displeased the gods with my erotic hubris, I managed to be the only bisexual girl in the history of colleges who failed to arouse the interest of the campus queers immediately upon setting foot in the dorms.

You don't deserve the anger you're turning on yourself. Your abuser's the one who does.

Too late, too late, your love gave me life. Here am I the creature you made through your loving; by your passion you created the thing that I am. Who are you to deny me the right to love? But for you I need never have known existence.

Gay rights aren't predicated on being born gay or having the right gene. Gay rights are predicated on having choice and consent. If you're a man and you can find another man that consents to have sex with you, it's the consent that gives you the right to have sex with him. Genetics are irrelevant when it comes to sexual rights. Just as gay rights are based on choice and consent, so are prostitution rights. All sexual rights are based on choice and consent.

I don't think it matters who you love, just as long as you love. Who cares whether it's a man or a woman? Why does that have anything more to do with the person inside than the color of someone's skin? Personally, I'm pretty fucking disappointed that I seem to be one hundred percent heterosexual.

When we hide discrimination under the guise of 'religious freedom,' we make a mockery of human rights.

That is — your friend?" "Philtatos," Achilles replied, sharply. Most beloved.

I hate that word. Straight. At the very least, those of us who are nonstraight should get called curvy. Or scenic. Actually, I like that: 'Do you think she's straight?' 'Oh no. She's scenic

Everyone's life matters and everyone deserves to be happy but not everyone is in a place where they think, or even believe, happiness is possible.

Entertainment in its broadest sense- popular ballads, vaudeville, films, sculptures, plays, paintings, pornography, pulp novels-- has not only been a primary mode of expression of LGBT identity, but one of the most effective means of social change. Ironically, the enormous political power of these forms was often understood by the people who wanted to ban them, not by the people who were simply enjoying them.

Every single courageous act of coming out chips away at the curse of homophobia. Most importantly it's destroyed within yourself, and that act creates the potential for its destruction where it exists in friends, family and society.

The Santa Ana Windgusts downdesert canyons.Hot. Dry. Electric.Some say it ignites tempers.I say it ignited us.

Any story dealing, however seriously, with homosexual love is taken to be a story about homosexuality while stories dealing with heterosexual love are seen as stories about the individual people they portray. This is as much a problem today for American filmmakers who cannot conceive of the presence of gay characters in a film unless the specific subject of the film is homosexuality. Lesbians and gay men are thereby classified as purely sexual creatures, people defined solely by their sexual urges.

If you don't know for sure, then what's the big thing about trying stuff out?" Jamie said, looking not at me but looking out at that statue, just like Hennitz.I still didn't have any of the right words. "It's more like maybe I do know and I'm still confused too, at the same time. Does that make sense? I mean, it's like how you noticed this thing about me tonight, you saw it, or you already knew it - it's there. But that doesn't mean it's not confusing or whatever.

To all my friends who constantly talk disparagingly about the supposed 'homosexual lifestyle' and stereotype gay people and the community, I'd like to get this straight. There are essentially two worlds – the 'gay scene' and the gay (or LGBTIQ) community. The 'scene' is like the tip of the iceberg; what is seen by others because it is visible on a street, suburb or pride parade. Like the ninety percent of the submerged iceberg, the community is larger and less visible. It consists of organisations, groups, support networks and also gay and lesbian singles and couples living 'normal' lives in the suburbs. Occasionally there is an overlap but not often. Some live, socialise and work in both. Many never enter each others worlds. The values, lifestyles and culture of these two worlds are as different as Asian culture is to western is to African is to Middle Eastern. Dig down even deeper below the surface and you find it is not a single community but diverse communities and subcultures that are separate but not necessarily divided. The common thing that binds them together is their experience of inequality, discrimination and their desire to make a better world for themselves, others and future generations. If you believe that all gays and lesbians are shallow and obsessed with sex, body image, partying, nightclubs and bars then you are obviously an observer from the outside or mixing in the wrong circles.

Most people think the closet is a small room. They think you can touch the walls, touch the door, turn the handle, and walk free. But when you're inside it, the closet is vast. No walls, no door, just empty darkness stretching the length of the world.

It wasn't the first time I'd been with someone, but it was different this time. Maybe it was because when I told them I was bisexual they weren't like the girls who thought I was *really* a lesbian; they weren't like the boys who thought it was hot. Maybe it was because when they told me they were genderqueer I just said that I knew and they cried as they smiled at me. Or maybe it was just because our limbs fit together, maybe because it tasted like salt water and was the colour of sunlight through grass. Or maybe it was just all these things.

It’s been four years since Justin kissed his best friend Lucas when they were both just 12. Then Justin, afraid of what it meant, afraid of how he felt, afraid of what it made him, ran and has been running from and avoiding Lucas for these four years. The thing about running is that no matter how fast you run, the past always catches up with you, and when faced with his past and all the things he’s missed, Justin finds he doesn’t want to run anymore. Now Justin wants to try to make things right with Lucas; he wants his best friend back. But maybe it's too late. Maybe Lucas has moved on. Read the story to find out if Justin is successful. This story isn't only about internalized homophobia and the hurtful things it leads gay kids to do to themselves and others. It is much more about truth, love and hurt and coming to terms with those things, forgiving yourself, and loving yourself enough to hold yourself accountable.

It’s tough enough to be a straight boy in a small town high school looking for the love of your life. But at least your possible loves are all out in the open.

It’s never too late to find that one person who can change you, for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Living in a world of darkness doesn't mean we must surrender, but to survive, we need to occasionally unleash the diva from within.

Without people coming in to our lives we never evolve, we just remain stagnant. Surely there is more to life than standing still whilst letting it pass you by. What’s even worse, is living a life pretending to be someone, or something that you believe others want you to be.

Juvenalius, 15 and gay, has been raised in a difficult family and has been held in his aunt's Diana suffocating iron grip for all of his life. He has been made to feel worthless and ashamed; with no freedom, only obedience. Yet this begins to change one day when he meets a boy named Davis at his high school who has drawn the meaningful letter 'C' on his right hand. Now Juvenalius has hope but his behavioral changes are seen as an act of defiance in his aunt's eyes until she catches Juvenalius and Davis kissing out back under the school's library windows. Then Juve's life is unexpectedly transformed.

I was on my way to talk to Davis when the car hit me". . . . . . "A dark figure emerged from the shadows, half-lit by the glittering streetlight and the pale glow of the moon". . . . . . . "Huge black wings erupted out of her back like a blooming rose. She was beautiful." . . . . "I knew who this woman was.’Are you Death?'" . . . . . “'Most people have something holding them down to this world,' she said, 'like a tether on a balloon. It could be something material, a person, or persons, an unfinished goal. There are many reasons to want to keep living. I wonder, Juvenalius, what is yours?'I smiled just thinking about it. 'His name’s Davis.'Her hand stroked my cheek so gently I wanted to cry. 'Tell me about him,' she whispered."And Juvenalius does. And you will be transfixed as Juve's first friend comes to life in his memory in this Tale with a gay twist.

Juvenalius has problems... though like most kids on the threshold of sexual awareness he only knows life sucks... he isn't clear about why. His mother rants on and on about the iniquity of his school having a gay straight alliance. She's quite safe about that, as Ryan is too shy to join, or is that scared? His only friend is a dog so the question of boy or girl-friend hardly arises... until he gets a valentine... from the least likely boy in the school.

Church is so confusing for Juvenalius. His new pastor preaches nothing but hate and condemnation of gays and lesbians, but no matter how carefully he reads his Bible, he can’t find where it says God hates him. Will things change when Juve's boyfriend Devis suggests that they all go to his church instead?

What's it like for a young teen of barely 14, trying to cope with all the normal problems of adolescence, and wrestling with the realization that he's gay on top of all that? Juvenalius struggles with accepting himself and with the idea of coming out, as well as trying to find a boy who he can love and be loved back in return. Narrated by him, find out how he deals with it all and how those important to his life help.

It’s much, much tougher when you’re a 17 year-old gay boy, part of only 10% or less of the school population and your possible loves are all in hiding, just as you are, due to the fear of being socially ostracized, laughed at, condemned and physically harassed by your peers.

Maybe some people enter in your life to create wonderful memories before they leave. Its hard to come to terms with that whether they walk away alive or dead.The only thing we can do is keeping that person in your memory as long as you can. That person does not need to please you like a girlfriend or a boy-friend but they can make you happy.That person does not need to cherish you like parents, but they can give you warmth & they are always ready to protect you.That person does not need to make us laugh at all times like friends, but they can make you smile.That some one who you won't go into hysterics when they leave, but they will always be in your memory forever

Maybe some people enter in your life to create wonderful memories before they leave. Its hard to come to terms with that whether they walk away alive or dead.The only thing we can do is keeping that person in your memory as long as you can. That person does not need to please you like a girlfriend or a boy-friend but they can make you happy.That person does not need to cherish you like parents, but they can give you warmth & they are always ready to protect you.That person does not need to make us laugh at all times like friends, but they can make you smile.That some one who you won't go into hysterics when they leave, but they will always be in your memory forever.

Maybe some people enter in your life to create wonderful memories before they leave. Its hard to come to terms with that whether they walk away alive or dead.The only thing we can do is keeping that person in your memory as long as you can. That person does not need to please you like a girlfriend or a boy-friend but they can make you happy.That person does not need to cherish you like parents, but they can give you warmth & they are always ready to protect you.That person does not need to make us laugh at all times like friends, but they can make you smile.That some one who you won't go into hysterics when they leave, but they will always be in your memory forever. JUVENALIUS

We Boys and Men need to know how to Love. Though It may sometimes hurt, we need to persevere and party it out.

The greatest people and most successful ones are the ones who never went to school . Sure.

With those shared personal stories and our own valued experiences we all, sometimes unknowingly, have a unique quality to impress vast and contrasting individual footprints onto this world. You may not relate to me as a drag queen, or even a gay man for that matter. However if you take away that small portion of my life, you’ll soon discover that I’m just like someone who’s already a part of your life, that you’re close to. First and foremost, I am someone’s son, someone’s best friend, someone’s partner or someone who you may perhaps meet on the street one day, extending his hand to you when you need it the most, without judgment or hatred.

I didn't set out to do a gay comic, but given the current political and religious climate in this country, I feel it is important as a gay person, and a Christian, to create stories with humor and honesty.

Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.

When are you going to get a fella?" Lily asks Rose after a year or two of dancing. "I have one who wants to take me kissing, but I think I should wait for you to have one."Rose flushes. "I don't think I'll ever have a fella.""Why not?" Lily bristles. "We're plenty pretty.""I don't like the look of them," Rose says.Lily purses her lips at the dance floor, appraising.After a moment long, Rose says, "Any of them."Lily looks at her a long time, as Rose tries not to hyperventilate.Then Lily shrugs and says, "Well, then it's you who should have learned to lead, isn't it?" and when Rose clasps Lily's hand, she clasps it back.It's the closest they've ever been.

I want to love like my grandmother, who loved a woman like Joseph loved Mary. Someone so imperfect, so human, brave enough to love someone who already knows God.

Substitute the word gay for straight and she's the exact same pain in the neck kid sister she was before she told us.