251 Quotes About Aids

Our society has made it extremely difficult for those livingwith the virus to declare their status

Post-Traumatic Stress Injury isn't a disease. It's a wound to the soul that never heals.

The worst of all of this is the lie that condoms really protect against AIDS. The condom failure rate can be as high as 20 percent. Would you get on a plane — or put your children on a plane — if one of five passengers would be killed on the flight? Well, the statistic holds for condoms, folks.

Don’t offend the gays and don’t inflame the homophobes. These were the twin horns on which the handling of this epidemic would be torn from the first day of the epidemic. Inspired by the best intentions, such arguments paved the road toward the destination good intentions inevitably lead.

To his fans at Our House, he was a symbol that having HIV or AIDS did not mean that you had to go hide in exile. You could stay in the game, be social, snatch trophies and *live.* The literature about HIV that I read and shared, by gay men for gay men, emphasized a focus on living with HIV, rather than on dying. But that was all theoretical, just words, until they could see it in practice.

Now We Think Now we thinkas we fuckthis nutmight kill us.There might bea pin-sized holein the condom.A lethal leak.We stop kissingtall dark strangers,sucking mustaches,putting lipstongueseverywhere.We return to pictures.Telephones.Toys. Recent lovers.Private lives.Now we thinkas we fuckthis nut might kill.this kiss could turnto stone.

All right, funny man. Some of the shite I've seen in the last couple o' years makes AIDS monkeys sound downright sensible.

UNESCO & military purposes for corruption deals.

Dans la cour de l'hôpital éclairée par ce soleil de juin qui devenait la pire injure au malheur, je compris, pour la première fois car quand Stéphane l'avait dit je n'avais pas voulu le croire, que Muzil allait mourir, incessament sous peu, et cette certitude me défigura dans le regard des passants qui me croisaient, ma face en bouille s'écoulait dans mes pleurs et volait en morceaux dans mes cris, j'étais fou de douleur, j'étais le Cri de Munch.