Silvio > Recent Status Updates

"It’s not something accompanied by a swooping feeling in his chest, and he doesn’t say a word or do a thing to mark the discovery. He just lies there, pressing wet kisses into damp skin, content to watch and hold and listen, even if Alex goes to sleep or ignores him, or whatever.

Because this, here, is love."

This book is a little gem.

"To keep him cooped up here is like trapping a butterfly in a green glass bottle - surrounded by darkness he is iridescent."

“So we’re doing this on my count?”
“Yeah.”
“When I say three?”
“Three. All right.”
“It’s going to come after two.”
“I know numbers, Rudy.” But after a beat he says, “Two. Okay. So that’s when I’ll get ready.”
Or maybe it’s conversations like these that are the reason I’ll do crazy shit with the fishboy. Because I haven’t felt like this in a really long time. It’s hard to explain. Like I said, I’m easy.

"I need to learn how to draw a scream."

I want to reach out to touch that hair. Slide my fingers through it. It's unkempt, but looks so soft. I want to curl up against him, around him, and tell him I understand. I don't have a family, and he's invisible to his. I want to tell him that I notice him, even if no one else does.

"I do know what happened to my parents. They were young and they realized a baby wasn't what they wanted or needed, so they gave me up. I've never understood how a mom and dad can have a kid for two and a half years before deciding, no, nevermind, just kidding. Can we take it back?"

"I tear up my diploma. It's paper. Proof I was able to memorize some facts and copy them onto a few tests. Proof I did something everyone else does. It's not proof that I am special."

"Through him I saw a rescue from the loneliness, but only in him did I want to find my redemption."

"My lips pursed on the shuddering feather softness of his belly and a sigh broke from Dominic that invaded and destroyed and rebuilt my brain, rebuilt it with a true, unwavering knowledge that I was his now. If he wanted, he could do as he wished, but I knew then that no matter the consequence I would follow his whims, wherever they might lead me."

"A flawless blond comes into your life, knocks you out of your colourless rut of existence, injects some happiness, starts to turn you around and then stands in front of you in his bedroom with a look that says "kiss me?” Kiss him. Tell him you fancy him,
tell him how purely beautiful he is, how wickedly clever. Promise to get to know him, promise to only have eyes for him."

"When was confession, again? I’d need it tomorrow
morning. I was only scared that it wouldn’t be the last time."

"It was not beauty, but quality that he had. Something unique and secret. Beauty possesses, more often than not, but quality can only be commanded. This quality – a fineness, a rugged fragility like something porcelain glued twice back together – he was unaware he even had."

"Desire. You can't fight that; you can only fight yourself after it hits you...Willpower and desire go hand-in-hand, because without the former, the latter would rule the world, and who knows how many more schoolboys and otherwise very boring and respectable teachers would be in much more trouble than need exist on any quiet little suburban street?"

"And so, in this bare monastery cell, in the predawn chill of this day, listening to the soft shuffle of the celibate monks on their way to chant the Morning Hours, I am contemplating the miracle of how the separate journeys of two souls have come together into one pilgrimage of love—and considering how love heals shame, as it heals everything else."

Just find it's...fun.

"At another time I would have been enchanted with it all: the names of the ship’s parts, halyard, mast, stern; the color of the water; the scrubbed-clean smell of the winds. But I barely noticed these things. I thought only of the small island flung out somewhere in front of me, and the fair-haired boy I hoped I would find there."

There are so many beautiful quotes in this book I don't even know where to start.

"In the moonlight, I could just make out the shape of his face, sculptor-perfect, across the room. His lips were parted slightly, an arm thrown carelessly above his head. He looked different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight. I found myself wishing he would wake so that I might watch the life return."

“You get crazy when you’re around this guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Does it feel like your heart’s getting all gooey when you think about him?”
“Yeah.”
“You have the urge to go out and buy him cars and furs and houses and make life sweet for him and all that?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re probably in love with him.”

"There was this weight on my head, and I needed him to knock it off. (The weight, that is, not my head.)"