Three kinds of people get talked about: The fascinating, the freaks and the nefarious.
Mr. Pilates was a bully and a narcissist and a dirty old man; he and Christopher got along very well. When Christopher was doing his workout, Pilates would bring one of his assistants over to watch, rather as the house surgeon brings an intern to study a patient with a rare deformity. __ook at him!_ Pilates would exclaim to the assistant, __hat could have been a beautiful body, and look what he__ done to it! Like a birdcage that somebody trod on!_ Pilates had grown tubby with age, but he would never admit it; he still thought himself a magnificent figure of a man. __hat__ not fat,_ he declared, punching himself in the stomach, __hat__ good healthy meat!_ He frankly lusted after some of his girl students. He used to make them lie back on an inclined board and climb on top of them, on the pretext that he was showing them an exercise. What he really was doing was rubbing off against them through his clothes; as was obvious from the violent jerking of his buttocks.
Lost Years: A Memoir 1945 - 1951
Quote Detail
Mr. Pilates was a bully and a narcissist and a dirty old man; he and Christopher got along very well. When Christopher was doing his workout, Pilates would bring one of his assistants over to watch, rather as the house surgeon brings an intern to study a patient with a rare deformity. __ook at him!_ Pilates would exclaim to the assistant, __hat could have been a beautiful body, and look what he__ done to it! Like a birdcage that somebody trod on!_ Pilates had grown tubby with age, but he would never admit it; he still thought himself a magnificent figure of a man. __hat__ not fat,_ he declared, punching himself in the stomach, __hat__ good healthy meat!_ He frankly lusted after some of his girl students. He used to make them lie back on an inclined board and climb on top of them, on the pretext that he was showing them an exercise. What he really was doing was rubbing off against them through his clothes; as was obvious from the violent jerking of his buttocks.
Quick Answer
What this quote page tells you
This canonical quote page keeps the full saying, the attributed author, any linked work, and the topic tags together so the quote can be cited from one stable URL.
Related Quotes
More quote cards from the same area
He made a pit and digged it. He was cunning in his plans and industrious in his labors. He stooped to the dirty work of digging. He did not fear to soil his own hands. He was willing to work in a ditch if others might fall therein. What mean things men will do to wreak revenge on the godly. They hunt for good men as if they were brute beasts - they that will not give them the fair chase afforded to the hare or the fox, but must secretly entrap them because they can neither run them down nor shoot them down. Our enemies will not meet us to the face for they fear us as much as they pretend to despise us. But let us look on to the end of the scene. The verse says he has fallen into the ditch that he has made. Ah, there he is. Let us laugh at his disappointment. Lo, he is himself the beast. He has hunted his own soul. The chase has brought him a goodly victim. So should it ever be.
He had to accept the fate of every newcomer to a small town where there are plenty of tongues that gossip and few minds that think.
When you call someone a sinner, make sure you have no sin in you, and if you say you are without sin, you are a righteous liar.
I had spent many nights in the jungle looking for game, but this was the first time I had ever spent a night looking for a man-eater. The length of road immediately in front of me was brilliantly lit by the moon, but to right and left the overhanging trees cast dark shadows, and when the night wind agitated the branches and the shadows moved, I saw a dozen tigers advancing on me, and bitterly regretted the impulse that had induced me to place myself at the man-eater's mercy. I lacked the courage to return to the village and admit I was too frightened to carry out my self-imposed task, and with teeth chattering, as much from fear as from cold, I sat out the long night. As the grey dawn was lighting up the snowy range which Iwas facing, I rested my head on my drawn-up knees, and it was in this position my men an hour later found me fast asleep; of the tiger I had neither heard nor seen anything.
Gay life is this object out there that__ waiting to be written about. A lot of people think we__e exhausted all the themes of gay fiction, but we__e just barely touched on them.