278 Quotes by Edmund White

Saint Guy of Anderlecht was the tenth-century Belgian saint of animals, stables, workhorses, and bachelors.

Precision is easier to master than artful vagueness, especially now when, thanks to Google, novels are fact-heavy. We no longer refer to “flowers” but to particular varieties of roses. The whole valuable distinction between foreground (precise) and background (blurred) has been lost, and now everything is crowding toward the viewer, clamoring for attention.

So,” he said. “What’s the difference between me and a whore?” He swallowed. “Am I a whore?”“No more than every married woman.

As a Buddhist I was determined to root out all desires, including especially my “sick” desire for other boys and men. Only through ridding myself of all “hankerings” could I achieve nirvana and escape the endless cycle of rebirth. The odd thing is that the transmigration of the soul from one body (old and ailing) into another (a happy baby’s) didn’t sound so bad—in fact, it was what most Americans longed for.

Whoever has not known the pleasures of open stacks—with their erotically charged corridors.

America was the attic of French culture.

Andrés was Latin enough to understand the sacred rights of the family and the inconvenience of a same-sex lover.

Everything we wrote was submitted to the editors above us, grizzled Korean War pilots with buzz cuts and an encyclopedic knowledge, who would routinely bounce our copy back and demand “fixes” (“More color,” “Doesn’t track,” or simply “Huh?” written in the margin).

Had he already inspired a passion in some stranger’s heart?