Andrew

“To my family. The one I was born into, and the one I found along the way.”
― Phil Stamper, As Far As You'll Take Me

“Gay men were at the forefront of that community of misfits, happy to have found in Garland a performer whose tragedy and resilience (like their own) went hand in hand. Those “boys in the tight trousers,” her “ever-present little bluebirds” 10 as Time magazine euphemistically referred to them at the time (William Goldman was not so kind, outright talking about the “flutter of fags” 11 that filled up Garland’s closing night at The Palace in 1967), were drawn to Garland precisely because she spoke their language. As queer theorist David M. Halperin notes in his cheekily titled book How to Be Gay, this had little to do with a synchronous identification: Garland “wasn’t a gay man,” he writes, “but in certain respects she could express gay desire, what gay men want, better than a gay man could. That is, she could actually convey something even gayer than gay identity itself.” 12”
― Manuel Betancourt, Judy at Carnegie Hall

“I thought he fitted in my life, but actually maybe he never did. Maybe he was never quite what I needed, and maybe I was never quite what he needed either. And I think that’s OK. I think sometimes you only get to know that after someone’s actually in your life. And I think sometimes you only realize that someone does fit after they’re not in your life any more.”
― Simon James Green, Heartbreak Boys

“A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?”
― T.J. Klune, The House in the Cerulean Sea