lesbian

That was her last rational thought. She gave herself up to Cam completely, feasting on her. She couldn't get enough of her.

In every woman, Claude had told Mickey, there is a need rarely satisfied by men, a need for simply caressing, and she had described how one of her women friends loved to cares the 'neutral parts' of her body for hours at a time. The neutral parts were the shoulders, the arms, the throat, the back, the parts that men seemd to forget. The insatiable desire for tenderness was felt most strongly in these neutral parts, wich were so rarely caressed. Men made love each in his fashion, more or less expertly, according to Claude, and they were especially fond of those things in women that were different from their own bodies.

When these flies were put together in all-male groups they formed long, moving chains resembling conga lines, with each male attempting (unsuccessfully) to mate with the male in front of it.

And she did not have to ask if this was right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect.

The first time someone else touched me with the intent to pleasure, I fell in love. Not with that person, but with the act itself. Such intimacy and accord. Even with the awkwardness of first time lovers there was a grace and purity, carnal and beautiful that I knew from that moment on I could never live without.

The only queer people are those who don't love anybody.

But you should know that about Dauntless- girl, guy, whatever, it doesn't matter here. What matters is what you've got in your gut.

The knife will only hurt for a moment. Then your choice will be made, and it will all be over.

I didn't give you this life, honey. They took to you because of who you are. You gave yourself this life.

Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.

The single best thing about coming out of the closet is that nobody can insult you by telling you what you've just told them.

Cam knew that if she succeeded, it was going to destroy her, but she could worry about that later. All she had to do at the moment was cut her own heart out without letting the wound show too much; she'd have plenty of time to bleed after Alex had gone.

That her own self-deception and self-absorption, her own slavery to the society and family in which she had been brought up, had reduced this blameless man to a weeping wreck struck her as horrific. She saw more clearly than she had ever seen before that she must change, or keep hurting the people who truly loved her.

Can you imagine, somebody telling you, your love for your dearly beloved is a sin! Can you imagine, somebody telling you, women are inferior to men, and are meant only serve the men! Can you imagine, somebody telling you, a man can have multiple wives, and yet be deemed civilized! Here that somebody is a fundamentalist ape - a theoretical pest from the stone-age, that somehow managed to survive even amidst all the rise of reasoning and intellect.

Homosexuality is immutable, irreversible and nonpathological.

Love has no gender - compassion has no religion - character has no race.

Being homosexual is no more abnormal than being lefthanded.

Homosexuals are not made, they are born.