Цитаты из книг — Брент Хартингер

Despite what some people try to pretend, the research on sexual orientation is clear and overwhelming: it’s a characteristic, not an illness; the feelings are involuntary, not freely chosen; and it’s not changeable.

Most people really don’t understand bisexuality. I hate it when people talk like bisexual people are indecisive, unable to make up their minds. It's not a question of being changeable, like a sea anemone, able to switch genders. I don’t shift or waver or change, and I’m not on my way to anything other than being bi; I’ve…

That’s the thing about gay people and straight people. We gay people understand them a lot better than they understand us. After all, we have to understand them, in order to live. But most straight people don’t even try to understand us. They have no reason to.

“We’re a family,” my mom said. “And somehow we have to learn to get along. So we’re all going to have to make sacrifices.” Let me guess, I wanted to say: your sacrifice will be the almost unbearable burden of having a gay son. And my sacrifice will be to stop seeing Otto (or any other boy, ever, for that matter).

It’s one thing to be sad that you don’t have the one thing you desperately want. It might be even worse to get what you want for a little while, only to have it taken away from you.

“I’m sorry, Russel, but sex between two men just isn’t a part of God’s plan!” This annoyed me. “Who said anything about sex?” I said. “I never told you I was having sex. I never brought up sex at all. You did, twice now. I'm talking about love. And it seems weird to me that the Church would say that two people falling in…

People like to say that we gay people don’t know what it’s like to experience “real” discrimination—that we were never slaves, that we never had our land stolen from us, that we were never put in concentration camps (wait, yes, we were—okay, bad example). But let me say here and now that being rejected by your own parents…

“It’s okay,” I said, and it really was. I’d forgiven another friend. But sometimes just because you forgive someone doesn’t mean you still love them.

“I can’t believe you’re really forgiving me,” I said. I felt incredibly grateful to Min, but I was frightened too, that I’d somehow misinterpreted her. “Russel,” she said, “people make mistakes. If there was no such thing as forgiveness, there wouldn’t be any friendships left in the world.”

“How do you do it?” I said. I wasn’t sure if he’d know that I was talking about his being an outcast, but he did know. “You get used to it,” he said simply. “All day long, I’ve felt like I’m going to burst into tears. Everyone staring at me, whispering things.” “No. You c-c-c-can’t think like that.” “What do you mean?”…

“It’s not fair!” I said, and everyone looked at me. “Why can’t there be just one place for gay kids, where we don’t have to hide who we are? Hell, straight people have the whole rest of the world! They go around holding hands and kissing and talking about ‘my-girlfriend-this’ and ‘my-boyfriend-that.’ And they say we shove…

Happy stuff is really pretty boring for everyone except the people involved (this is the reason why graduation ceremonies are boring but car crashes sren't, and why newspapers write about floods and robberies, but not sunsets and birthday parties).

“The Church teaches things,” I said. “People like my parents hear those things, and they believe them. And then they freak out when they learn their son is gay. And other people hear those things, and they beat up gay people. Or they vote for politicians who write laws that make us second-class citizens. And now you’re…

But to tell the truth, the whole “religion” thing had never really worked for me. I considered myself spiritual, and hopefully somewhat moral. But being moral because someone gives you a list of rules to follow (and warns you you’ll be punished if you don’t), well, that always seemed to me to kind of miss the point. And…

For a second, I wasn’t sure what else to say. I wanted to stand up in that rowboat and shout that we’d be together forever, because I thought it might make him feel better, and also because that’s the way I felt. But that seemed wrong somehow. Promising him my undying love because I thought it would make him feel better…

I know that opposites attract, but who the hell wants to spend time with an opposite? What in the world would you talk about?

My kids and I kept walking toward the door. You’ve heard the expression “a bull in a china shop”? That’s what I felt like. I even imagined I heard glass breaking all around me. Except it wasn’t me or anyone else knocking over all the gift shop’s delicate glass trinkets. No, it was my kids’ opinions of me, each one falling…

The bane of almost every gay boy’s existence: sometimes the biggest high school jerks are also the hunkiest.

“Fine,” I said to myself, following after them. I couldn’t very well have them walking into quicksand. (Or could I? It would sure solve a lot of my problems.)