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Not as intolerable as being dead, in my opinion, but I'm very fond of me. I would miss me a lot.

Josh Lanyon

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Josh Lanyon
Dead
Opinion
Would
Intolerable
Fond
Miss
Missing

More quotes by Josh Lanyon

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When you live with a potentially life-threatening condition you get used to the thought of dying. You accept it, you push on. The thing that scared me was the picture of dying slowly and painfully, the loss of independence and identity to illness.
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Do you still do the clubs?” Jake shakes his head. “You do the clubs because you can’t find what you need at home. I’ve got everything I need. I’ve got the answer to needs I didn’t even know I had.
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Kit, you're forty. You look thirty. You act...well, never mind. You're carrying on like you think you're seventy
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You don't look so hot, Adrien. Yeah, well I'm having a bad heart day. His upper lip curled in a semblance of a smile. Tell me about it.
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The problem with a life spent reading is you know too much.
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Tiffs among the faggots were apparently the stuff of quiet merriment.
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The only thing worse than opera is someone who hums along with opera.
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Shrugging out of the damaged shirt, Jake said roughly, “I still dream about you.” “I have nightmares about you.” I dragged my T-shirt over my head, threw it aside.
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Like true philosophers I've come to believe that religion is an illusion of childhood, outgrown after proper education.
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Anyone who wasn't half-stoned on pain meds would have instantly realized what a really bad idea this plan was, but since that didn't include me, I didn't worry about it.
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He needed fresh air and sunshine. A walk in the woods and afterward a good book to read by the fire. Yeah, that was the life.
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I noticed you right away. She gave me an approving look. I like quiet, polite men. And men who wear Hugo Boss. I was hoping you weren't gay. Or that you were only half-gay. Like Paul. Uh...sorry, I said. It's pretty much full-time now. The pay's not great, but the perks...
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And I thought maybe I didn't need to worry about my heart anymore because it had stopped beating a couple of seconds earlier, and I was still sitting there living and breathing-though admittedly I wasn't feeling much of anything.
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Then, like a born and bred asshole, he added to the sheriff, He writes murder mysteries.
Josh Lanyon
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I dug out the powder blue cashmere cardigan my mother Lisa gave me the Christmas before last, pulled on my oldest, softest Levi’s. Comfort clothes the next best thing to a hug from a warm, living body. Lately there had been a shortage of hugs in my life. Lately there had been a shortage of warm, living bodies.
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Have I ever told you, you look like Monty Clift? he inquired in a deep, seductive voice. Before or after the accident?
Josh Lanyon
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I thought I recognized you. Really? He remembered me looking like Swamp Thing? How flattering.
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To find them all in one package...well, perhaps better not to dwell on his package in my fragile state.
Josh Lanyon
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I’m never wrong? Who besides Republican presidents and evil masterminds can say that with a straight face?
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I'm a thirty-something gay man with a dodgy heart. I sell books for a living. Who wants to read about that?
Josh Lanyon