To speak a language that was as intimate and free as certain dreams, saying darkly, thrillingly, My cock inside of you. Your come in my mouth … He focused on the boy’s slim, tight hips; with the tip of his tongue he tasted an asshole’s bitter, forbidden mystery.
For eventually one gets over reality’s affront to one’s innocence. One grows accustomed to the melancholy fact that we all sell ourselves at one time or another, that whoring is the dirty little secret of our success as human beings.
Still, the illusion of love had, in its time, led to stranger depravities.
I think good conversation is really the best form of sex.
Education teaches children to lose interest in what matters most to them.
You’re the enemy. You’re the one who’s going to defeat yourself.
People always had one kind of animal or another inside them.
Class, she reminded herself, was the real marker in America.
Still, for all that, her life had lacked passion. The demons had never come for her.
As long as we do violence to other animals, we’ll keep on doing violence to ourselves.
Was it a form of madness, no longer to be able to trust your sense of things? To be betrayed by decisions apparently arrived at carefully and through reason, but really no more than marauding appetites cunningly tricked out as reasonable choices?
Louis thought he would be all for a back-to-the-basics drive in education: a teacher, an olive tree, a bit of midday wine (the Greeks had watered theirs down to keep their heads lucid), and, last but not least, six or seven eager and receptive youths seated at one’s feet.
Love loves anarchy. It loves to wreak havoc. It loves to dance atop the ruins.
The past is the past. It’s the present we should worry about.
Do you even know what gay stands for? Well, let me tell you. G-A-Y. Got Aids yet?
All desire, Tracy had had occasion since to think, is to some degree monstrous.