Lgbtq Quotes

“My name is Daphne.'
Daphne?
In that moment, it's as if I've peeled the skin away from the chest of a patient, revealing a beating heart. A boy could not say that name as if terrified the syllables will break in the mouth. A boy-born-boy could not recognize what I am.
Of course her name is Daphne.
I stand up straight, taking a step from the door; and then another, and another.
She's like me.”
― Andrew Joseph White, The Spirit Bares Its Teeth

“He's...he's doing the same thing I do. His hands are fluttering. Like mine.
Oh God, he's like me.”
― Andrew Joseph White, The Spirit Bares Its Teeth

“I know I can't take all that shame away from him. But I can start by showing him how much I'm not ashamed. Not only am I not ashamed, I'm proud. I can't make him love himself. The closest I can get is loving myself unapologetically in front of him. Like Bo did in front of me. Maybe then he'll get it.”
― Sonora Reyes, The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School

“Begun 1913
Finished 1914
Dedicated to a Happier Year”
― E.M. Forster, Maurice

“You really are queer”
― Christopher Paolini, Eragon

“I told myself it was curiosity spurring me on. I didn't realize that a dictionary might be like reading a map or looking in a mirror.

butch (v. transitive), to slaughter (an animal), to kill for market. Also: to cut up, to hack
dyke (n.), senses relating to a ditch or hollowed-out section
gay (v. intransitive), to be merry, cheerful, or light-hearted. Obsolete
lesbian rule (n.), a flexible (usually lead) ruler which can be bent to fit what is being measured...
queer (adj.), strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character, suspicious, dubious...

Even at school I remember wondering about closets, whether there was a subtle difference between someone being in a closet and a skeleton being in a closet.”
― Eley Williams, The Liar's Dictionary

“There are emanations of god we can’t even see. What’s important is that you feel it.”

“But I want to know.”

“You think anyone knows? A mother loves the way she sees her child. A people love their myth of a homeland. You love your Miriam.”
― Melissa Broder, Milk Fed

“NOTE: The character of Aoleon is deaf. This conversation takes place in the book via sign language...

“Feeling a certain kind of way Aoleon?”
She snapped-to and quickly became defensive. “What in the name of the Goddess are you on about?”
Shades of anger and annoyance. The old Aoleon coming out.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t poke at you like that. It’s okay you know. There’s nothing wrong about the way you feel.”
As if suddenly caught up in a lie, Aoleon cleared her throat and ran her fingers absentmindedly over her ear and started to fidget with one of the brass accents in her snowy hair.
A very common nervous reaction.
“No…I mean…well I was…uh...”
“Aoleon, I know about you and Arjana.” he admitted outrightly as he pointed at the drawing.
She coughed, stuttered, smiled, but could bring herself to fully say nothing. Words escaped her as she looked about the room for answers.
“My sight is Dįvįnë, lest we forget. I knew you were growing close.”
“Yes. Well…she’s…something else.”
“Indeed?” he responded.
Images flashed briefly in Aoleon’s head of her father’s old friend. Verging on her fiftieth decade of life. She was a fierce woman by all accounts. One who’d just as soon cut you with words as she would a blade. Yet, she was darling and caring towards those she held close to her. Lovely to a fault; in a wild sort of way. Dark skin, the colour of walnut stained wood. Thick, kinky hair fashioned into black locs that faded into reddish-brown tips that were dyed with Assamian henna; the sides of her head shaved bare in an undercut fashion. Tattoos and gauged ears. Very comfortable with her sexuality. Dwalli by blood, but a native of the Link by birth although she wasn’t a Magi. Magick was her mother’s gift.
“I heard her say something very much the same about you once Aoleon.”
“Really?” Aoleon perked up right away. “Did she?”
“Yes. After she first met you in fact. Nearly exactly.”
Aoleon’s smile widened and she beamed happiness. She sat up assertively and gave a curt nod. “Well, of course she did.”
“She’s held such a torch for you for so long that I was starting to wonder if anything would actually come of it.”
“Yeah. Both you and Prince Asshole.” Aoleon exclaimed with a certainty that was absolute as she once again tightened up with defensiveness.
Samahdemn walked his statement back. “Peace daughter. I didn't know your brother had been giving you a row about her. Then again, he is your brother. So anything is possible.”
Aoleon sighed and nodded. “Not so much problems as he’s been giving me the silent treatment over it. Na’Kwanza. It’s always Na’ Kwanza.”
Samahdemn nodded knowingly and waived a dismissive hand. “He’s just jealous. He always has been.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“Why would you hide it? Why not tell me?”
“I don’t know.” she said; shrugging her shoulders. “I didn’t know how you’d take it I suppose.”
“Seriously? You were afraid of rejection? From me? Love, have I ever held your individuality against you? Have I ever not supported you or your siblings?”
She shook her head; a bit embarrassed that she hadn't trusted him. "No, I suppose not."

-Reflections on the Dįvonësë War: The Dįvįnë Will Bear Witness to Fate”
― S.H. Robinson

“You did not believe this was a battle that would be won in your lifetime, and so you resolved yourself to live in that wobbly space where your humanity and rights were openly debated on cable news, and the defense of them was not a requirement for the presidency. You were already a woman, so you knew. Occupying that space was your goddamned specialty.”
― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

“What kind of life can two men have together, anyway? All this love you talk about--isn't it just that you want to be made to feel strong? You want to go out and be the big laborer and bring home the money, and you want me to stay here and wash the dishes and cook the food and clean this miserable closet of a room and kiss you when you come in through that door and lie with you at night and be your little girl. That's what you want. That's what you mean and that's all you mean when you say you love me. You say I want to kill you. What do you think you've been doing to me?”
― James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

“Youth has its moments of keen intuition, even normal youth—but the intuition of those who stand mid-way between the sexes, is so ruthless, so poignant, so accurate, so deadly, as to be in the nature of an added scourge; and by such an intuition did Stephen discover that all was not well with her parents.”
― Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness

“But his oaths could not save Stephen now from her neighbours, nothing could do that since the going of Martin—for quite unknown to themselves they feared her; it was fear that aroused their antagonism. In her they instinctively sensed an outlaw, and theirs was the task of policing nature.”
― Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness

“One night he said abruptly: Stephen won't marry—I don't want her to marry; it would only mean disaster.'

And at this Anna broke out in angry protest. Why shouldn't Stephen marry? She wished her to marry. Was he mad? And what did he mean by disaster? No woman was ever complete without marriage—what on earth did he mean by disaster He frowned and refused to answer her question. Stephen, he said, must go up to Oxford. He had set his heart on a good education for the child, who might some day become a fine writer. Marriage wasn't the only career for a woman. Look at Puddle, for instance; she'd been at Oxford—a most admirable, well-balanced, sensible creature. Next year he was going to send Stephen to Oxford. Anna scoffed: 'Yes, indeed, he might well look at Puddle! She was what came of this higher education—a lonely, unfulfilled, middle-aged spinster. Anna didn't want that kind of life for her daughter.”
― Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness

“And Puddle was helpless. What could she do, bound as she was by the tyranny of silence? She dared not explain the girl to herself, dared not say: 'For your own sake you must go to Oxford, you'll need every weapon your brain can give you; being what you are you'll need every weapon,' for then certainly Stephen would start to question, and her teacher's very position of trust would forbid her to answer those questions.

Outrageous, Puddle would feel it to be, that wilfully selfish tyranny of silence evolved by a crafty old ostrich of a world for its own wellbeing and comfort. The world hid its head in the sands of convention, so that seeing nothing it might avoid Truth. It said to itself: 'If seeing's believing, then I don't want to see—if silence is golden, it is also, in this case, very expedient.' There were moments when Puddle would feel sorely tempted to shout out loud at the world.”
― Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness

“She would think with a kind of despair: What am I, in God's name—some kind of abomination?' And this thought would fill her with a very great anguish, because, loving much, her love seemed to her sacred. She could not endure that the slur of those words should come anywhere near her love. So now night after night she must pace up and down, beating her mind against a blind problem, beating her spirit against a blank wall—the impregnable wall of non-comprehension: 'Why am I as I am—and what am I?' Her mind would recoil while her spirit grew faint. A great darkness would seem to descend on her spirit—there would be no light wherewith to lighten that darkness.

She would think of Martin, for now surely she loved just as he had loved—it all seemed like madness. She would think of her father, of his comfortable words: 'Don't be foolish, there's nothing strange about you.' Oh, but he must have been pitifully mistaken—he had died still very pitifully mistaken. She would think yet again of her curious childhood, going over each detail in an effort to remember. But after a little her thoughts must plunge forward once more, right into her grievous present. With a shock she would realize how completely this coming of love had blinded her vision; she had stared at the glory of it so long that not until now had she seen its black shadow. Then would come the most poignant suffering of all, the deepest, the final humiliation. Protection—she could never offer protection to the creature she loved: 'Could you marry me, Stephen?' She could neither protect nor defend nor honour by loving; her hands were completely empty. She who would gladly have given her life, must go empty-handed to love, like a beggar. She could only debase what she longed to exalt, defile what she longed to keep pure and untarnished.”
― Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness

“There were times when Puddle felt almost desperate, and one evening she came to a great resolution. She would go to the girl and say: 'I know. I know all about it, you can trust me, Stephen.' And then she would counsel and try to give courage: 'You're neither unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad; you're as much a part of what people call nature as anyone else; only you're unexplained as yet—you've not got your niche in creation. But some day that will come, and meanwhile don't shrink from yourself, but just face yourself calmly and bravely. Have courage; do the best you can with your burden. But above all be honourable. Cling to your honour for the sake of those others who share the same burden. For their sakes show the world that people like you and they can be quite as selfless and fine as the rest of mankind. Let your life go to prove this—it would be a really great life-work, Stephen.”
― Radclyffe Hall

“[Carey, medicine man] '...I can feel it in your energy. You don't respect me or this ceremony.'
I shrug. 'You got me there.'
'Why?'
'I don't know--I guess--maybe I'd like to know a little bit about your qualifications? Do you have a degree in medicine?'
'Even better. I'm a card-carrying member of the Board of Shamans. BS for short.' Carey pulls out a card from a bison-skin wallet. 'Proof.'
'This is a strip of birch bark.' I turn it over. 'And you drew a cock on it!”
― Dennis E. Staples, This Town Sleeps

“Spirits can be bitches like that.”
― Dennis E. Staples, This Town Sleeps

“Did you know you can just order a trophy from a company and engrave it however you want? I ordered myself a trophy in the exact size, shape, and fake plastic luster as the one state basketball championship trophy that sits in my high school's awards cabinet. Except instead of being about basketball, my trophy says Marion Lafournier, World's Biggest Cynic. And really, who could blame me?”
― Dennis E. Staples, This Town Sleeps

“The message of the eunuchs also calls us to look around and ask: Who is being excluded? Who is not welcome? Who is there no space for? [...] There is nothing to prevent them from being baptized. There is nothing to prevent them from worshipping. They don't need to change to be worthy; they are made worthy by wanting to be included. Anyone who desires the water is welcome.”
― Shannon T. L. Kearns, In the Margins: A Transgender Man’s Journey with Scripture

“And Isabella made a noise, just a slight noise. And at that, I began to unwind”
― Anbara Salam, Belladonna

“Am I the only one that worries about the nation filling up with gender challenged people?”
― Steven Magee

“The big mistake I made when dating was assuming all women I met were straight.”
― Steven Magee

“Killing people is, of course, a terrible thing to do. Lila says it should only be used as a last resort, and these people are really pushing all those buttons.”
― Emily Rennie

“For minorities and marginalized groups, representation matters, but access matters more.”
― Raven Jemison, More Than Representation: The Cheat Codes to Own Your Seat at the Table

“[guard] 'Before we torture you, please sign the release.'
[legal form] 'I shall not say "ah, my back really needed that!" when being drawn over the rack. (we've all heard it before. you're not original!) I shall not get off on the torture or joke about getting off on the torture. (we are just trying to do our jobs)'
[Casper] 'Ah, no fun allowed.”
― H.A., The Chromatic Fantasy

“[Jules] No!! No! No! No!
I want to be happy!!
I want to love and be loved!!
I want to feel safe!!
I want to be someone who doesn't deserve it!!
I want my life and my body and my soul!!”
― H.A., The Chromatic Fantasy

“YHWH claims that he does not look on outward appearances but at the heart (will) of the person (1 Sam. 16.7). However, when the last of Jesse's sons comes into the room, we are told:

'Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. The Lord said [to Samuel], "Rise and anoint him for this is the one"' (1 Sam. 16.12).

Thus the selection of David as the boy companion of the main warrior chief, while it departs from the standards of beauty set by Saul, appears nonetheless to begin with his remarkable beauty...The first thing we know about Saul and David is their beauty.”
― Kenneth Stone, Queer Commentary and the Hebrew Bible

“I can feel the pair of you mother-henning me from here,' Vel called from the bathroom door. 'It smacks of conspiracy.'
'You'll be cared about and you'll like it!' Cae called back.”
― Foz Meadows, All the Hidden Paths

“[Markel signing] '...If I'd just been a little sharper--'
'You're plenty sharp, Markel,' I said, smiling at him. 'Like an oddly maternal knife.”
― Foz Meadows, All the Hidden Paths