Queer Taste Quotes

I was sufficiently recovered from my nervous condition – or else the booze was beginning to work – to be able to discuss with Rudi the merits of checked or striped trousers, which had been the great debate among the London nobs that year. I was a check-er myself, having the height and leg for it, but Rudi thought they looked bumpkinish, which only shows what damned queer taste they had in Austria in those days. Of course, if you'll put up with Metternich you'll put up with anything. ~ George MacDonald Fraser

He who would speak of unknown authors, buried beneath the rubble of centuries, inevitably lays himself open, at least to begin with, to the suspicion of being a crotchety sort with very queer tastes. ~ Arno Schmidt

A little more fervor in my nihilism and I might - gainsaying everything - shake off my doubts and triumph over them. But I have only the taste of negation, not its grace. ~ Emil M. Cioran

Queer Eye is a makeover show, meant to help our straight brethren. ~ Kyan Douglas

You taste like the last drop of whiskey
at 3 am
after a lousy day
like the first gulp of coffee on a Monday sipped behind a desk
hot and bitter
like the burning at the back of the throat
after the first cigarette
You taste, boy oh boy, like my next mistake. ~ Malak El Halabi

Better to be happy with the cod fish in your plate now, than to linger for the taste of a tuna that is still swimming in the sea. ~ Dennis E. Adonis

One theory on cannibals, of course, is that they eat parts of their slain enemies to benefit from that person's greatest assets - their strength, their courage. Then there's that thing they do in Germany. You heard about that, didn't you? Some man over there agreed to let another man cut off his penis, cook it, then feed it to him – now, what in hell was that all about? What did he think the taste of his stir-fried cock would tell him about himself? Was he seeking to wring one last drop of pleasure out of the thing? (Goodness, that's an unnecessarily vivid metaphor.) But somehow – I said this over dinner – this steak with beef marrow sauce, it didn't seem that different. "It's like eating life. It's almost like eating my own life, you know?"

No, not really. But it's a hell of a good steak, sis. ~ Julie Powell

Be sure to taste your words before you spit them out. ~ Auliq Ice

It is so hard for a queer person to become an adult. Deprived of the markers of life's passage, they lolled about in a neverland dreamworld. They didn't get married. They didn't have children. They didn't buy homes or have job-jobs. The best that could be aimed for was an academic placement and a lover who eventually tired of pansexual sport-fucking and settled down with you to raise a rescue animal in a rent-controlled apartment. ~ Michelle Tea

I have almost forgotten the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool'd to hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir as life were in't: I have supt full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me. ~ William Shakespeare

A Mormon is a man that has the bad taste and the religion to do what a good many other people are restrained from doing by conscientious scruples and the police. ~ Finley Peter Dunne

These glaring disparities, about how those with the most access within the movement set the agenda, contribute to the skewed media portrait, and overwhelmingly fail at funneling resources to those most marginalized. My awakening pushed me to be more vocal about these issues, prompting uncomfortable but necessary conversations about the movement privileging middle- and upper-class cis gay and lesbian rights over the daily access issues plaguing low-income queer and trans youth and LGBT people of color, communities that carry interlocking identities that are not mutually exclusive, that make them all the more vulnerable to poverty, homelessness, unemployment, HIV/AIDs, hyper-criminalization, violence, and so much more. ~ Janet Mock

Exaggeration is a prodigality of the judgment which shows the narrowness of one's knowledge or one's taste. ~ Baltasar Gracian

I want to say something to him, but the words keep evaporating, vanishing off my tongue before I have the chance to say them. I can taste them, but I can't tell if they are sweet or sour. ~ Paula Hawkins

What people these days call "Vibes" is a smell, a taste of the soul. ~ Saroj Aryal

Love a person who is quite unloved, rather than a person who is very much loved. People who feel unloved treat it as a luxury, a hidden treasure, a gem. People who felt loved all their lives treat it as a birthright, an entitlement, a necessary materiality. Give water to the thirsty, they know what water should taste like. ~ C. JoyBell C.

You don't tip before I've delivered the service, mate." I may be a prostitute but I don't accept payment when I haven't worked for it. I'll be vulnerable to peculiar demands later on. "I want you to have it." Ali shifts his feet uncomfortably. He gazes at me for a long moment, seemingly debating what to say. "I...I want us to have sex as though we're making love." Making love? Jaysus. I scratch my head. I am at a loss why the words scare me. It's not like I don't understand what it's about, theoretically. "Okay. You mean more kisses and shit?" Ali laughs. "And shit." His face lights up and he looks about ten years younger. "Like cuddles." Cuddles. Hugs. Kisses. Luxuries for other people. Sex has been only sex to me in the last few years. I guess grown-ups sometimes need some tender loving care. Fuck knows why Ali wants that from me, but if it's what he fancies, it's not the weirdest request I've ever heard. "'Course. The customer is always right." A frown appears briefly on his handsome face. I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. We are still standing when I start kissing him, slowly at first as if I need to taste his lips and savour them. All the while, I try to think of him
as someone I want. Strangely, it turns me on more than I care to admit. As I undress him, each small button of his shirt I undo brings expectation that thrills me. His strong hands seem too big for the same task, but they are delicate at the same time with the act of revealing my body. Soon ~ A. Zukowski

Portrait photography never had any charms for me, so I sought my subjects from the house-tops, and finally from the hill-tops and about the surrounding country; the taste strengthening as my successes became greater in proportion to the failures. ~ William Henry Jackson

What a queer topsy turvy world it was. It used to be the man who went to the wars, the woman who stayed at home. But here the positions were reversed. ~ Agatha Christie

Loss of mental function, taste for Frank Sinatra music, and similar degenerative effects. ~ Nassim Nicholas Taleb

You know," he laughed easily, "with all the goddam drinkin' Ah've done, Ah still can't remember the taste of it unless Ah got the bottle right with me. ~ Norman Mailer

To think that I had almost fallen for the skin of his hands, his chest, his feet that had never touched a rough surface in their existence - and his eyes, which, when their other, kinder gaze fell on you, came like the miracle of the Resurrection. You could never stare long enough but needed to keep staring to find out why you couldn't. ~ Andre Aciman

You know that's not true. We have something, Helena. In another life, it would have been a beautiful something."

That hurts. God, does it. I've seen that life. He doesn't even know what he's talking about. In his mind, I'm just some possibility that could have been, but in my mind, he's the only possibility.

I step close to him, close enough to see the stubble on his cheeks. I reach up to touch it, and it scrapes against the tender side of my hand. Kit closes his eyes.

"There's a house uptown on Washington ; we live there together in that life," I say softly. "Everything is green, green, green in our backyard. We have two children, a boy and a girl. She looks like you," I say. "But she acts like me." I carees his cheek because I know it's the last time I'm going to get to do it. Kit's eyes are open and storming. I run my teeth across my bottom lip before I continue. "In the summer, we make love outside, against the big wooden table that still holds our dinner dishes. And we talk about all the places we want to make love." I lick the tears from my lip where they are pooling. Running in a straight line down my cheeks, a leaky faucet. "And we're so happy, Kit. It's like a dream every day."

I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him softly on the lips, letting him taste my tears. He's staring at me so hard I want to crack. "But, it's just a dream, isn't it? ~ Tarryn Fisher

As a young gay African, I have been conditioned from an early age to consider my sexuality a dangerous deviation from my true heritage as a Somali by close kin and friends. As a young gay African coming of age in London, there was another whiplash of cultural confusion that one had to recover from again and again: that accepting your sexual identity doesn't necessarily mean that the wider LGBT community, with its own preconceived notions of what constitutes a "valid" queer identity, will embrace you any more welcomingly than your own prejudiced kinsfolk do. ~ Diriye Osman

Nothing can be well learned that is not agreeable to one's natural taste. ~ Murasaki Shikibu

explaning the way I feal is like explaning the taste of water. ~ James Hagan

The term "queer" is not simply a 1990s recoding of a pre-Stonewall epithet but here refers to a myriad forms of same-sex and other non-normative kinds of desire that have come to inform certain specific identity groups such as gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transgender individuals, transsexuals, transvestites, cross dressers, drag queens, drag kings, alternative straights and anyone in between. ~ Chantal Zabus

And then we're at that moment when you both go and get what you want or you both go back. The moment when you say, Stuff being scared; what's on the other side is better. That moment when you inch closer to each other little by little, till your skin starts and ends in the same place. Till your faces get so close your lips start and end in the same place, too. Till you taste milk shake and salt and sugar days and the world spins and the stars sound like harmonicas. ~ Cath Crowley

The entire principle of a blind taste test was ridiculous. They shouldn't have cared so much that they were losing blind taste tests with old Coke, and we shouldn't at all be surprised that Pepsi's dominance in blind taste tests never translated to much in the real world. Why not? Because in the real world, no one ever drinks Coca-Cola blind. ~ Malcolm Gladwell

The first thing I encountered on entering the museum was the earliest steam engine built in England. As I walked on, marveling at each successive mechanical wonder, I realized that I was witnessing the history of machinery, as if on parade, from its primitive beginnings to the present day, in all its complex and astounding elaborations.
Henry Ford's so-called "pile of scrap iron" was organized not only with scientific clarity but with impeccable, unpretentious good taste. Relics of the times associated with each machine were displayed beside it. To me, Greenfield Village, inside and out, was a visual feast. ~ Diego Rivera

The drink was like water, indeed very like the taste of the draughts they had drunk from the Entwash near the borders of the forest, and yet there was some scent or savour in it which they could not describe: it was faint, but it reminded them of the smell of a distant wood borne from afar by a cool breeze at night. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

I've always thought of this city as Disneyland for adults ... There's no danger of Las Vegas expiring from an excess of good taste. ~ Mary Jo Putney

As I took off the rumpled sheets, the smell of the people who had slept in them would lift up into the air. There was the round, almost sweet sweat smell of a child who had spent a day happily exploring, or the sharper-edged odor of one who'd gone to bed unhappy. With the bigger beds, I came to understand the way the scents of two people could mingle as effortlessly as rainwater, and to recognize the times they stayed apart, the smells resolutely separate. Sometimes there were those unreal perfumes, jumbling and talking too loudly- but underneath them I could always find the person. Sadness, like the dark purple juice of a blackberry. Fear, like the metallic taste of an oncoming storm. Love, which smelled like nothing so much as fresh bread. In an odd way, the game wasn't that different from reading the smells of our island. Scents were always about what was growing and what was dying. What would last through the next season. This was just with people instead of trees or flowers or dirt. ~ Erica Bauermeister

The surpluses will have to be expended somehow, and trust the oligarchs to find a way. Magnificent roads will be built. There will be great achievements in science, and especially in art. When the oligarchs have completely mastered the people, they will have time to spare for other things. They will become worshippers of beauty. They will become art-lovers. And under their direction and generously rewarded, will toil the artists. The result will be great art; for no longer, as up to yesterday, will the artists pander to the bourgeois taste of the middle class. It will be great art, I tell you, and wonder cities will arise that will make tawdry and cheap the cities of old time. And in these cities will the oligarchs dwell and worship beauty ~ Jack London

I arrived on earth in 1928. Born into a milieu of painters, I acquired my taste for painting with my mother's milk. ~ Yves Klein

Sometimes shows became almost obsessively obscure, as with the gooseberry (Ribes uva-crispa) shows of nineteenth-century Britain, when workingmen in the industrial counties of northern England and the Midlands formed themselves into societies, constituted with presidents, secretaries, and stewards, for the purpose of running gooseberry shows - weight being the decisive factor. Quite why this fruit, always something of a minority taste, should become the subject of what only could be described as a cult remains a mystery. ~ Noel Kingsbury

It is better to drink of deep grief than to taste shallow pleasures. ~ William Hazlitt