Lgbt People

"A lonely man is a lonesome thing, a stone, a bone, a stick, a receptacle for Gilbey’s gin, a stooped figure sitting at the edge of a hotel bed, heaving copious sighs like the autumn wind."

"At my back I hear the word—”homosexual”—and it seems to split my world in two.... It is ignorance, our ignorance of one another, that creates this terrifying erotic chaos. Information, a crumb of information, seems to light the world."

"People named John and Mary never divorce. For better or for worse, in madness and in saneness, they seem bound together for eternity by their rudimentary nomenclature. They may loathe and despise one another, quarrel, weep, and commit mayhem, but they are not free to divorce. Tom, Dick, and Harry can go to Reno on a whim, but nothing short of death can separate John and Mary."

"The organizations of men, like men themselves, seem subject to deafness, nearsightedness, lameness, and involuntary cruelty. We seem tragically unable to help one another, to understand one another."

"The task of an American writer is not to describe the misgivings of a woman taken in adultery as she looks out of a window at the rain but to describe four hundred people under the lights reaching for a foul ball. This is ceremony."

"One would never have guessed that the world had such a capacity for genuine grief. The most we can do is exploit our memories of his excellence."

"We praise Him, we bless Him, we adore Him, we glorify Him, and we wonder who is that baritone across the aisle and that pretty woman on our right who smells of apple blossoms. Our bowels stir and our cod itches and we amend our prayers for the spiritual life with the hope that it will not be too spiritual."

"Wisdom we know is the knowledge of good and evil not the strength to choose between the two."

"I do not understand the capricious lewdness of the sleeping mind."

"When the beginnings of self-destruction enter the heart it seems no bigger than a grain of sand."

"I'm wicked, as you say, and I'm rude and I'm boorish and I discovered, after marrying Mr Scaddon, that I could be all these things and worse and that there would still be plenty of people to lick my boots."

"Admire the world. Relish the love of a gentle woman. Trust in the lord."

"..for the dead fish was striped like a cat and the sky was striped like the fish and the conch was whorled like an ear and the beach was ribbed like a dog's mouth and the movables in the surf splintered and crashed like the walls of Jericho."

"...your underwear is clean in case you should be hit by a taxicab and have to be undressed by strangers."

"He had that spooky bass voice meant to announce that he had entered the kingdom of manhood, but Rosalie knew that he was still outside the gates."

"My veins are filled, once a week with a Neapolitan carpet cleaner distilled from the Adriatic and I am as bald as an egg. However I still get around and am mean to cats."

"All literary men are Red Sox fans—to be a Yankee fan in a literate society is to endanger your life."

"Literature has been the salvation of the damned, literature has inspired and guided lovers, routed despair and can perhaps in this case save the world."

"What I am going to write is the last of what I have to say. I will say that literature is the only consciousness we possess and that its role as consciousness must inform us of our ability to comprehend the hideous danger of nuclear power."

"When I remember my family, I always remember their backs. They were always indignantly leaving places. That’s the way I remember them, heading for an exit."

"I sometimes go back to walk through the ghostly remains of Sutton Place where the rude, new buildings stand squarely in one another’s river views."

"For me, a page of good prose is where one hears the rain [and] the noise of battle. [It] has the power to give grief or universality that lends it a youthful beauty."

"A collection of short stories is generally thought to be a horrendous clinker; an enforced courtesy for the elderly writer who wants to display the trophies of his youth, along with his trout flies."

"The need to write comes from the need to make sense of one’s life and discover one’s usefulness."

"I can’t write without a reader. It’s precisely like a kiss—you can’t do it alone."

"Art is the triumph over chaos."

"Homesickness is nothing … Fifty percent of the people in the world are homesick all the time."

"He was a tall man with an astonishing and somehow elegant curvature of the spine, formed by an enlarged lower abdomen, which he carried in a stately and contented way, as if it contained money and securities."

"The novel remains for me one of the few forms where we can record man’s complexity and the strength and decency of his longings. Where we can describe, step by step, minute by minute, our not altogether unpleasant struggle to put ourselves into a viable and devout relationship to our beloved and mistaken world."

"In tropical climes There are certain times Of day When all the citizens retire To take their clothes off and perspire. It's one of those rules That the greatest fools Obey, Because the sun is far too sultry And one must avoid its ultry- Vi'let ray."

"Now I'm off to Sibyl to meet Noel Coward, with whom I am slightly in love."

"Did I tell you about Noel Coward? He is in search of culture, and thinks Bloomsbury a kind of place of pilgrimage. Will you come and meet him? He is a miracle, a prodigy. He can sing, dance, write plays, act, compose, and I daresay paint.—He rescued his whole family who kept boarding houses in Surbiton, and they are now affluent, but on the verge of bankruptcy, because he spends so much on cocktails. If he could only become like Bloomsbury he thinks he might be saved."

"Noel Coward, whose brain is so delicate that it is intoxicated by the slightest waves in the ether, has, in desperation, taken a header in the wrong direction. He ought to be a white-hot pacifist. But somebody waved a Union Jack in front of him, and he tripped up, and he wrote Cavalcade. That play is about the finest essay in betrayal since Judas Iscariot jingled his thirty pieces of silver in the moonlight a number of years ago. And the tragedy of it is heightened by the fact that it is Noel who has been betrayed, and not his public. His public, which is deservedly vast, adored the flags and the streamers, the blood red, ice-white and royal blue which, in varying patterns, he threw across the stage of Drury Lane. And he, I am quite sure, adored the thirty thousand pieces of silver which, as a result of this play, he was able to jingle in his pocket. But the play was a tragedy, none the less. And the tragedy was not on the stage. It was in the Royal Box. It was focused in the thin, nervous face of the young man who had created this glittering tissue of dramatic lies, as he turned to his adoring audience, and said, "It's pretty exciting to be English nowadays.""

"My big break came the next year with Bitter Sweet, starring . I had a dress with a plunging neckline. Noël Coward said he could see the and I felt devastated. If you're blind, you'll miss me in that one."

"I asked Coward about a famous anecdote about him. He was alleged to have been sitting under cover from the heavy rain next to his close friend Princess Marina, Duchess of Kent, prior to going to Westminster Abbey for the Coronation service. Opposite them was another queen who had made her way into the affections of the British public, the vast Salote, Queen of Tonga. "Noël, who is that little man sheltering under Queen Salote's umbrella?" asked his companion. Coward peered through the rain. "Oh, her lunch, my dear." He laughed. "That was said by somebody at White's, and immediately attributed to me. That was very flattering of course, except I had intended to visit Tonga the following winter, and after that of course it was quite impossible.""

"Coward's influence spread even to the outposts of Rickmansworth and Poona. Hearty naval commanders or jolly colonels acquired the "camp" manners of calling everything from Joan of Arc to Merlin "lots of fun," and the adjective "terribly" peppered every sentence. All sorts of men suddenly wanted to look like Noel Coward—sleek and satiny, clipped and well groomed, with a cigarette, a telephone, or a cocktail at hand."

"Coward himself said of Bitter-Sweet: "disdaining archness and false modesty, I knew it was witty. I knew it was well constructed, and I also knew it would be a success." That description can suffice for a great many of Coward plays (and other achievements) and makes the main points. That comedy, and not tragedy, should have been his métier may convince the injudicious that he is brittle and trivial – but neither the chic nor the wise can trouble themselves about people like that."

"The lifestyle presented in Hay Fever, Design for Living, Private Lives and Blithe Spirit is somewhat more acceptable now than it was in Coward's day, but the plays can never be either controversial or dated. Coward emphasized entertainment, not message, and the principal appeal of these scintillating comedies arises from their bantering dialogue (with just a touch of malice and cynicism) and their amusing situations (with just a touch of sexual spice). The artificiality of both is part of their charm. The carefully wrought machine runs on jewels of wit, and charming little figures parade before us at the appropriate times with striking effect. That it also indicates The Times is almost incidental, but useful."

"Amanda: Extraordinary how potent cheap music is."

"Coward played a supporting role in a poorly received comedy movie SURPRISE PACKAGE(1960). When someone approached Coward and told him that he had stolen the picture,Coward replied---"Thank you,My Dear, but it was only petty larceny"."

"Morris: I'll never speak to you again until the day I die! Gary: Well, we can have a nice little chat then, can't we?"

"Gary: Beryl Willard is extremely competent. Beryl Willard has been extremely competent, man and boy, for forty years. In addition to her extreme competence, she has contrived, with uncanny skill, to sustain a spotless reputation for being the most paralysing, epoch-making, monumental, world-shattering, God-awful bore that ever drew breath...I will explain one thing further - it is this. No prayer, no bribe, no threat, no power, human or divine, would induce me to go to Africa with Beryl Willard. I wouldn't go as far as Wimbledon with Beryl Willard. Liz: What he's trying to say is that he doesn't care for Beryl Willard."

"Gary: You ought never to have joined the Athenaeum Club, Henry: it was disastrous. Henry: I really don’t see why. Gary: It’s made you pompous. Henry: It can’t have. I’ve always been too frightened to go into it."

"So if I could employ A little magic that will finally destroy This dream that pains me and enchains me But I can't because I'm mad... I'm mad about the boy"

"Will it ever cloy This odd diversity of misery and joy I'm feeling quite insane and young again And all because I'm mad about the boy"

"Lord knows I'm not a fool girl I really shouldn't care Lord knows I'm not a school girl In the flurry of her first affair."

"On the silverscreen He melts my foolish heart in every single scene Although I'm quite aware that here and there are traces of the cad About the boy"

"Mad about the boy I know it's stupid to be mad about the boy I'm so ashamed of it but must admit the sleepless nights I've had About the boy"

"People are wrong when they say that the opera isn't what it used to be. It is what it used to be — that's what's wrong with it!"

"The actual facts are so simple. I love you. You love me. You love Otto. I love Otto. Otto loves you. Otto loves me. There now! Start to unravel from there."