You can be anything you want, but when you go against who you are inside, it doesn't feel good.

It needs to be said that sometimes my mom forgets important details when she talks. Like the time she told us she was considering leather (couches, it turns out), or when I was little and she said, "Here's a napkin to put your balls in" (the Atomic Fireballs that I was eating, she meant).

Straight people have it so much easier. They don’t understand. They can’t. There’s no such thing as openly straight.

The Greeks were smarter than us, and they had different words for different kinds of love. There's storge, which is family love. That's not us. There's eros, which is sexual love. There's philia, which is brotherly love. And then there's the highest form. Agape.” He pronounced it “aga-pay.” “That's transcendental love, like when you place the other person above yourself.

You can be anything you want, but when you go against who you are inside, it doesn't feel good.

And perhaps the best answer is not to tolerate differences, not even to accept them. But to celebrate them. Maybe then those who are different would feel more loved, and less, well, tolerated.

The world needs people who are more comfortable standing still. We keep the earth on it axis when everybody else is bouncing around.