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The battle rages eternal, though the race, religion, gender or sexual orientation of those discriminated against changes regularly. Maybe man’s need for a scapegoat is genetically programmed into him.

Josh Lanyon

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Josh Lanyon
Race
Orientation
Though
Sexual
Religion
Gender
Discriminated
Need
Rage
Rages
Needs
Changes
Genetically
Men
Battle
Scapegoat
Eternal
Programmed
Maybe
Regularly

More quotes by Josh Lanyon

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Tiffs among the faggots were apparently the stuff of quiet merriment.
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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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Focus on someone else’s problems for a change, I instructed myself. You need the practice. From now on you’ll have to live in a world you didn’t make up. Horrible thought.
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He scooped up Victoria practically before she hit the ground, well within the five-second rule. If she'd been a potato chip, he could have still eaten her. Not something I particularly wanted to contemplate.
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I know you've all heard the advice, Show, don't tell. The best writers don't tell you, and quite frankly they don't just show you -- they make you feel it, live it, taste it, touch it. Storytelling is about being in the moment with the characters.
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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.
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...Jake, a homosexual cop buried so deep in the closet he didn't know where to look for himself.
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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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The problem with a life spent reading is you know too much.
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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 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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I know that asshole you were with in college --” “Can we leave that asshole out of it?” Please, gentlemen, one asshole at a time.
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He was probably selfish in the sack. Probably selfish and greedy and...unsophisticated. And hung like a horse.
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I thought of the words of the Renaissance philosopher Michel de Montaigne. If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I.
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Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor.
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I'm not insane. This is very simple, very straightforward. Provided he doesn't kill me, its foolproof.
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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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Rachel delivered it like an official pronouncement. Like she was one of the fairies gifting Sleeping Beauty's christening: Beauty. Intelligence. Heterosexual.
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I thought I recognized you. Really? He remembered me looking like Swamp Thing? How flattering.
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